Fifty Shades Complete Part 6
by newgirl3366
Summary: This story begins in July 2014. Phoebe will be born in this story, and perhaps her entrance into the world will be rather timely. How will Christian handle an unexpected course of events? As always, this story will keep with the original story and characters as set forth by Ms. James. I do not own Fifty Shades of Grey or any of the characters. All rights go to E.L. James.
1. Chapter 1

**_Fifty Shades Complete Part 6_**

 _Written as a fanfiction by Newgirl3366_

 _I do not own Fifty Shades of Grey or any of the characters._

 _All rights go to E.L. James._

 _This story will begin at the end of July 2014 and end sometime in August or September 2014. Phoebe will be born in this story. Ted is just over two years old in this story._

 _Thank you all, in advance, for reading._

 ** _Prologue_**

 ** _Christian's POV_**

 _Dark. The room is bathed in light from the bedside lamps until it is not anymore. The heavens crash and open up in a deluge of water. Everything goes dark. Dark and silent. A cry sounds from down the hall. Ted. Frantic footsteps fall and stop in front of our bedroom, moving faster than I can from the corner near the window. I will my feet to move, but holding her is holding me here._

 _"_ _Mr. Grey, I'll fetch him." Gail is speaking to me. I nod in acknowledgement. Her figure is framed in the doorway for only a split second, then she is gone. She will see to Ted. He's only scared of the thunderstorm._

 _Three fucking days of these storms, so uncharacteristic of the Seattle skyline. The darkness is interrupted by a brilliant flash of light. The charge in the atmosphere is palpable. Ana's body relaxes against mine. "I want to sit down. It was just a false alarm, Christian. I needed to walk through it. I'm fine. They're just Braxton hicks." Her panting breaths even out to a more normal pattern._

 _"_ _You have been having contractions on and off all day. I'm calling Mom." I see her to over to our bed, where she gingerly sits down. Something is off. She's three weeks away from her due date, two weeks away from the scheduled cesarean. We will be living at Escala by the beginning of the week. We are too far away from the hospital. I should have insisted on moving us back there sooner. I run my hand through my hair. Why did I go against my instincts?_

 _"_ _You already called her this morning, Christian. What did she tell you?" I roll my eyes at her, knowing full and well that she can see me. "Stop rolling your eyes at me." Caught. Through my underlying fear I allow a small smile. This woman is so exasperating and endearing._

 _"_ _She said that it was normal and reminded me that you had these with Ted too." I relinquish my trepidation for a fleeting moment._

 _"_ _Good. You remember."_

 _"_ _Are you mocking me, Mrs. Grey?"_

 _"_ _Hardly, Mr. Grey. Just merely reminding you stop being such a worrier. Now, go see to our son. You know these storms have been scaring him, and since he's up from his nap early you know he's going to want a snack. I need the bathroom, I'll meet you two down stairs." She pulls my hand to her mouth and kisses my palm. One more false alarm contraction and I'm calling the doctor. I swear I'll bypass both my mother and my wife._

 _Two darting beams of light show outside of our bedroom. "Daddy, Mommy, fashwight!"_

 _Ana giggles beside me. "He's found his favorite part of these storms, again."_

 _The lower beam of the two, bounces wilding off the walls and the floor of the hall. Teddy purposely does not hold his flashlight as steady as Gail does. It has turned into a game for him. The first time we lost power two days ago I immediately had Taylor searching for the idea of generators. Ana, or course, said that losing power for a few hours was no reason to need a generator. I disagree. Construction to install a full back up system will start on Monday._

 _Releasing his hold on Gail's hand, Ted barrels into our room. His flashlight bobs up and down with each running step he takes. "Mommy, see?" He holds it up, brightening the wall behind our bed with a luminescent circle._

 _"_ _I see, you have a wonderful flashlight."_

 _I watch Ana's hand, she's running it back and forth across her belly. Another one is coming. She bites down on her bottom lip so hard that in the flash of our son's light I can see that it is white. She does a good job hiding her discomfort, but not good enough. I can see it. She's in pain._

 _Gail must notice what I am seeing. She holds her hand back out for Ted and asks him to join her for a snack. Happy to comply he darts back over to her and allows her to take him downstairs._

 _"_ _That's it, Anastasia. I'm calling Dr. Greene." Another angry flash of light streaks past the window. Its two ends touch the clouds and the water of the sound. This is by far the worst storm we have had this week. Why now? A sense of dread fills my body, coursing its way through my veins. I am reaching for the phone on the bedside table when I am stopped by Ana. She's gripping my arm like a vise._

 _"_ _Forget the bathroom, forget Dr. Greene." She blows out a slow breath. "My water just broke. We need to go."_

 _I look down at the now damp sheets and quilts beneath her. My brain and my body fail to connect. She's not due for another three weeks. It's early. It's too early. No. The baby cannot come now._

 _"_ _Christian," she whimpers out my name._

 _"_ _It's not time yet," I state. I am not able to wrap my head around this. I have everything planned in preparation for Phoebe's arrival. I've been so sure to tie up all loose ends. The unexpected cesarean last time will not happen this time. No. She's spilled water on the bed. That's it. No that's not it. That's fucking stupid shit, Grey. Her water just broke. Fuck. The baby is coming._

"The baby is coming!" I sit upright in the bed, hearing my own voice echo in the room around me. I'm drenched in sweat. The sheets are a tangled heap around my feet. Lightning flashes, brightening the room like the flash of a camera.

"Christian," Ana's voice is groggy. She struggles to sit up and touches my arm with her hand. "What's wrong?"

I scrub my hands over my face. "Nothing, it was a dream." A vivid dream. My heart is still pounding in my chest.

"A nightmare?"

She thinks one of my hold nightmares has come back to haunt me. "No, baby…not that." I reassure her, and myself. Get ahold of yourself, Grey, you're scaring her.

"What then?" She jumps and startles as a clap of thunder fills the air.

I wrap and arm around her back and pull her close. My other hand finds her pregnant belly. I let out a silent breath of relief. Blip two is still there, safe and snug inside of Ana. "I dreamt that our daughter was attempting to make an early entrance into the world."

Ana laughs softly and covers my hand with hers. "She's safe, Daddy. She's right here. You have nothing to worry about." My false fears begin to fade away.

Another boom is promptly followed by the voice of our son over the baby monitor. "Mommy, Daddy, fashwight!" She's right, there is nothing to worry about. We'll be at Escala in a few days and everything will go as planned. I kiss her head. "I'll go fetch him."

"Don't forget his flashlight." She hands me the flashlight from the drawer of her bedside table. "He won't be happy if you don't have it."

I kiss her, happy with the current events. Ana is safe in our bed. Blip two is safe in her belly, and Teddy will soon be in our bed playing happily with his flashlight. Everything is as it should be, orderly and under control.


	2. Chapter 2

****I'm back onto writing part 6. :) Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the anniversary story. If you would like to see my co author's stories you can find them by searching: Fifty shades stolen. You can also find him under my username and authors I follow. Side note, this is the first week of school for us. My son is entering his freshman year in high school :( I'm not sure where time has gone, and of course I am starting back to work. So far, I think I'll be writing regularly, though I am still doing my teacher training homework and on the 17th my class for college starts. So as always, bear with me. :) Thank you all for reading. *****

One more pancake. Using my fork I place the last pancake on the dish between us onto Teddy's plate. He's holding his chubby index finger up in indication. He nods his head affirmatively when the pancake is where he wants it to be.

"Nanas and syrtup pwease, Mommy."

I'm already slicing another half of a banana into little circles and dotting them on top of his pancake. I knew what his next request was going to be before he even voiced it. Next I drizzle syrup over the top. Not needing a cue, Teddy dives right in on his second serving of breakfast.

Freshly showered and dressed for work, Christian comes into the kitchen. His first stop is me. He kisses the top of my head and splays his hand over my eight month pregnant belly. His long fingers can no longer span over my entire belly. Blip two has grown too much for that. "Is that all you're eating?" He's looking down at my plate. There is one piece of toast with peanut butter and banana slices on it. "Our daughter needs more than one piece of toast for breakfast."

"I've already eaten one piece of toast, Christian. This is my second." I tilt my face up and bends down to kiss me.

"Good."

"Daddy, 'tiss Mommy 'gain."

"We should please our audience," Christian grins.

"By all means, Daddy. Kiss me again." He brushes my lips with his again, this time I go in for a deeper kiss. Darting my tongue out to taste his lips. Not too much of a kiss in front of Ted and Gail, but enough to taste my husband. Any plans I had for sex this morning were thwarted when we gained a third in bed due to the storms last night.

Gail comes to the table with the rest of my breakfast. She's holding a hot skillet, protecting her hand with a black oven mitt, and a spatula in the other hand. "I have Mrs. Grey's omelet here, Mr. Grey." I notice the knowing smile she slides my way. I just shake my head. Gail knows how he is just as well as I do. I think Christian notices our shared jest, but he chooses to ignore it.

"Good." He kisses me again, more modestly this time, and takes his seat.

"Omelet for you too, Mr. Grey?"

"Yes, thank you, and fruit. Mrs. Grey will have some fruit as well." If it were up to Christian I would have gained forty pounds during this pregnancy instead of the thirty I have gained. He takes his napkin from the table and places it on his lap. "Elliot and a few members of his work crew will be coming by today. I've decided to have a full back up power generator system installed."

I finish the bite of omelet in my mouth and swallow. "When did you decide to do this?"

"Last night." He answers shortly and drinks his coffee. I stare at him, hopefully getting the hint across that I want him to continue further with his explanation. "The power has gone out several times over the past few days."

"Christian, the power has flickered over the past few days. This weather we have been having is highly unusual for Seattle. I'm not sure a few thunderstorms warrant…"

He holds a hand up. "I would rather be prepared. Besides, we'll be moving into Escala this evening. This is the perfect time to have the system installed. Taylor will bring you and Ted at your earliest convenience."

"Tunder, Daddy, boom!" He may appear to be just eating his breakfast, but Ted's little ears are tuned into our conversation. "Tunder boom, Mommy." He repeats his phrase, this time to me. He's remembering the storm from last night. Any other little boy would be scared of the storms but not Teddy. It is the chance to use his flashlight in the dark, which intrigues him and fights off his fear. "Sweep wiff, Daddy and Mommy." He picks up his last piece of syrup covered pancake and pops it into his mouth.

"You did sleep with Daddy and Mommy."

"Me, like." My little man smiles around his mouthful of pancake. He is a sweet mess of syrup and fruit. I could eat him up.

"Daddy is going to have Uncle Lelliot put a big machine in our house so the lights won't go dark when it thunders." Christian explains his plans to Ted, as Gail serves his omelet onto his plate.

Teddy listens intently for a moment, but is distracted by the bowl of fruit Gail has set in the middle of the table. "Mommy, fuit, pwease." His rubs his hands together and I spoon some of the brightly colored sweet salad onto his plate. As much as his belly is hungry these days, so is mine. We are both growing, just for entirely different reasons.

With Ted happily munching on his third plate of breakfast I turn back to my plate. Christian's phone must vibrate, because he takes it out of his pocket and swipes his finger across the screen. "Elliot will be here around noon. They shouldn't be in your way. You and Ted should be leaving soon before or after that." He says distractedly as he types out what I assume is a reply to his brother.

There is not use in arguing with him about this generator thing. His mind is obviously made up. There is no reason to argue with him either. Everything about this screams Christian Grey. He never wants to be ill prepared for anything. Control should be his middle name. This is just another way for him to maintain it. He would control the universe if he could.

 **"** **IS THAT ALL, MA'AM?"** Taylor has the few bags I have asked Gail to place by the door. I count them in my head and take inventory of what I have packed in them. I packed and repacked Teddy's bag of special toys and blankets at least ten times. Then I folded and refolded Phoebe's outfit to come home from the hospital in.

"Yes, that's all. Thank you, Taylor." There's not much to bring from the big house to Escala. Just a few necessities, mostly items Teddy refused to part with. Still, it took me nearly an hour to pack things, which I didn't truly need to pack.

With my hand at the small of my back I walk, my now signature waddle, from the great room to the front door. Ted is already outside with Gail. I can hear them talking as she buckles him into his seat. The late morning air outside is already warm. It will be hotter still once we are in the city. Looking around the room I mentally snap a picture for my mind. This is the last time I will be here as the mother of one little boy. The next time I enter this house I will have a son and a daughter. In a rare moment, now that she is taking up a large part of her living quarters, my little Phoebe gives me a kick from inside. I touch my belly. It's her way of reminding me that she's already my daughter. "Yes, but you haven't been born yet." I whisper to her. Two more weeks until my scheduled C-section. The question weighing heavily on my mind is, will she wait that long?

Taylor exits off I-5 and onto Stewart. I've only been away from work for a week now, but it feels like much more time has passed. Just three months ago I believed Grey Publishing had hit its peak. New authors, e books, an author on the New York Time's best seller list, those were all tremendous accomplishments, but not things are even better. Three of our e book authors have gone to print and we've picked up five more independent authors on our e book side. All five of those authors are on Amazon's best seller list. I cannot take all of the credit. Hannah has worked tirelessly by my side. Taking her on as my second was the smartest choice I ever made professionally.

"Taylor, can we stop by the publishing company for a minute?" I'm going to go stir crazy sitting in the apartment for the next two weeks. I have to get out and do something. Maybe walk a few times a day. Ted would enjoy seeing the city from his stroller and walking will be good for me. At least I had the meadow and vast lawn to walk at the big house. Here I am bound to sidewalks. _You're bound to the apartment. You know Christian is not going to let you out for long walks._ My subconscious gives me her all too accurate account of the situation. He's just going to have to get over it, or not find out. I shift in my seat. This short ride has been hard on my back.

"Yes, Mrs. Grey." Taylor turns left at the next light and pulls up to the front doors of Grey Publishing.

"Do you want to go see Claire and Hannah?" I unfasten the buckle against Ted's chest. He nods his head 'yes' and climbs out of his seat.

"I'll wait here for you." Taylor is behind me with my door open already. He helps me out. I'm beginning to feel like the beached whale that everyone has to help in and out of place, and up and down from places.

I do my best to straighten my powder blue wrap dress. Hoping that I haven't given Taylor, or the citizens of Seattle a peep show, during my exit from the back of the SUV. Ted grasps my hand with his and walks at my side through the front door.

 **TEDDY IS THE CENTER** of attention in reception. Every woman I employ, especially Claire, is in love with him. He gives them all his sideways smile, so much like his father. Although he, unlike his father, is completely aware of his flirtatious charisma and uses it to his advantage. _Anastasia Grey, you will be in trouble in about ten years._ Claire takes him down the hall to one of the vending machines, promising him a sweet treat. He goes willingly.

Hannah has a new manuscript she was planning to email to me and takes me up to her office to show it to me. She asks me how I'm feeling on our way up. "Do you want a romanticized version, or the truth?"

"That bad, huh?"

"Not bad, just tired. I spend more time than the average person does in a year in the bathroom, on a daily basis. The heartburn is gone, thank goodness, and it is easier to breathe. My back is aching nonstop, and I'm starting to wonder if I'm going to make it two more weeks. Overall, I'm doing great." At the doorway to Hannah's office I stop and steady myself against the wall. "Oh, and I've been having false contractions."

"Sounds like a tea party." She smiles sweetly.

"A tea party where there is no longer room for two, but the other guest insists on sharing a chair with me. Come on, I can't wait to see this manuscript." I change the subject from my complaining.

Before I realize it an hour has passed. Poor Taylor waiting outside for me. I feel awful. I must get going. Hannah and I have been engrossed in the manuscript. She is right. It is a page turner, I cannot put it down. It is also entirely different than any other manuscript I have ever read. This author has a talent I only dream of possessing. His way with words and the way he uses them to shift from one scene to another is mind-boggling. The only reason I look up from my reading is the tiny footfalls coming quickly down the hall.

"Mommy!" Teddy bursts through the doorway with a piece of paper in each hand. From my seat at Hannah's desk I can see that there are scribbles all over the papers. "Mommy, pitures, pitty pitures." He holds his masterpieces up for me to see.

"I hope you don't mind, Ana. I kind of gave him free rein over my pen and pencil drawer." Claire is right behind him.

"Not at all, Claire. They are pretty, Ted. You picked pretty colors for your pictures."

"Yes." He confirms his satisfaction, no shortness of high self-esteem for my baby boy.

"Hannah, do you mind if I take this home with me? I'd like to finish reading it. I'm staying in the city until the baby comes. I can bring it back by tomorrow."

"No, Ana. I don't mind at all. That is fine."

"Good." I gather up the stack of papers and glance up at the clock on the wall. It is after one. "I'll see you ladies tomorrow."


	3. Chapter 3

**This has been my escape for the day. My best friend since 10th grade, and co worker, had a heart attack this morning at the age of 32. My day has felt like a nightmare. When I sat down to write this evening...all day I kept saying I was going to write, I did it to escape. And the entire time I was writing I was able to escape. But when I stopped I remembered my reality right now. Please send prayers for her. Things are precarious right now. I'm scared and cannot lose her. She has two very young children and they need their momma. I hope you all enjoy the new chapter. Our little Phoebe will be on her way soon.**

 **OMINOUS LOOKING DARK STORM** clouds are hanging low in the sky, when I exit the front door of Grey Publishing. Taylor leaps out of the idling SUV. "Mrs. Grey," he opens the back door. "It's about to rain," he says ushering Ted and me into the vehicle. Just as I duck inside, large rain drops begin to fall. They are followed by a low rumble of thunder. Great, another afternoon of thunderstorms. I love rain. It is requirement for living in Seattle, and generally speaking I love storms, but after nearly a week straight of severe storms every afternoon the thrill has lost its luster.

Teddy begins chattering about needing his flashlight, and I count down the seconds until my phone begins ringing. Christian will call soon. It has been his habit to do so every time a storm has come through the city and he has not been with me. Taylor shuts the door behind me and I buckled Ted in his seat. On cue, my cell phone rings. I fish it out of my purse. _Your Love is King_ , right on time, husband of mine.

I'm smiling to myself as I answer the phone. "Hello."

"Ana, where are you?"

"On my way to Escala."

"I thought you would be there by now?"

"We would have been, but we stopped by GP."

"Why? You're on maternity leave. Is Hannah not capable of doing her job without you constantly holding her upright?"

Jeeze, what's gotten into him? His attitude is snippy and plain rude. I feel the skin on my forehead wrinkle, as I frown in irritation. "Of course she is. What is this about?"

"You're on maternity leave."

"I went to visit. Relax. I wasn't moving furniture or anything. I sat in a chair and visited."

He changes his tack, "It's starting to storm outside."

"Yes, we are pulling away from the curb right now, headed for Escala." I almost tell him that I'm under the same sky as he is, and I can see that it is about to storm. I choose my words wisely and stop. He was this very much this same way for the last few weeks before Ted was born. I smile inwardly to myself, remembering how Kate likened herself to a butterball turkey and said Elliot was watching her like her 'done' button was about to pop. I am now the butterball turkey on Thanksgiving and Christian has taken on Elliot's role of worried father. No matter how much I have tried my best to assure him that we've done this before, he will not calm down and relax. I had hoped the scheduled C-section would temper his nerves. It gave him a definitive date, a time to expect our daughter's arrival. But alas, it has done nothing to alleviate his end of pregnancy jitters, and they are only intensifying with each passing day.

"Taylor is with you?"

I roll my eyes, of course he is with us. "Yes, he is."

"I know you're rolling your eyes."

"Good." I smile into the phone and hear his smile in return.

"I'll be leaving here at five. Go home and rest."

"Okay, and I am. Your son is over here rubbing his tired eyes as we speak." I glance over at Ted in time to catch him covering a big yawn with his hands. "We will both take an afternoon nap after we've had lunch." Oops, I messed up. Why did I admit that I haven't had lunch yet?

"Lunch? Isn't it late for lunch?"

"We had snacks at the office." I explain quickly. Why, oh why do I not think before speaking sometimes? The father of my children does not need any more reasons to worry about me or them. "I love you and I will see you when I get home."

He grumbles and tells me he loves me too. He doesn't have to say it. I already know it, but I'm glad he says it just the same. It still gives me butterflies to hear those three simple words being said to me in his voice.

 **REST COMES EASY FOR** Ted but not for me. I toss and turn, unable to get comfortable I decide to give up on the idea of a nap. It's no use to even try any longer to sleep. There is a dull nagging ache, which persists in my back. Giving up on sleep, I get up and toddle my way out to the great room. The storm from earlier has tapered down to a steady rain. I settle on one of the sofas and prop my feet up. I could read the manuscript from Hannah. I could read a book. Or I could sit right here and gaze out the glass wall. I choose gazing and before long my eyes begin to drift shut. The pillow I have propped behind me assuages some of the pressure blip two seems so determined to put on my back.

I am startled awake by a cabinet door shutting and water running in the kitchen. How long I was asleep I am not sure. The water sounds like it is running into a big pot. Gail. She must be here preparing dinner. Shifting up on my arms I struggle to maneuver around my belly, and finally make it to an upright position.

"Mrs. Grey," Gail looks up from where she is, I think, chopping vegetables. I think I've startled her too. "I had no idea you were sleeping there. I'm so sorry I woke you."

With my feet planted firmly on the floor, I hoist myself up on the first attempt. Not bad at all. I am happy with my triumph. Getting up from the couch, well any piece of furniture lately, has been quite a trial. "It's okay, Gail," I rub the sleep from my eyes. "I needed to wake up." The digital clock on the microwave says 3:35. Teddy should be waking soon. "I'm going to go check on Ted. He'll be waking up soon."

She steps from behind the kitchen island, leaving her knife on the cutting board with an assortment of fresh vegetables. "I can do that. You sit and rest." The way she looks at me makes me feel uneasy.

"Is everything alright, Gail?"

"Perfectly fine, ma'am. You sit and rest. I'll go to see to Teddy."

She's gone from the room before I have the opportunity to protest further. A cup of tea sounds good right now. I set to the task of putting water in the kettle and am setting it on the stove when I hear Christian's voice in the foyer.

He's talking on the phone, I think. "Yes, Elliot. Go ahead with the plan you presented to me." He is talking about the generator back up system for the house. When he sees me in the kitchen he ends his call and drops his things on the breakfast bar. He is around the kitchen island and taking me in his arms before I know it. My full grown baby belly presses against him between us. "Why do you insist on worrying me so much?" He inhales, his nose in my hair, and kisses the top of my head.

"I keep you on your toes."

"I'm tired of being a ballerina, Mrs. Grey. You keep me on my toes entirely too much."

"Just wait until you read the manuscript I picked up from Hannah. You'll be glad I stopped by work."

"You're on maternity leave." He tugs my hair so that I am looking up into his castigating gray eyes. I know I'm not in trouble, but I also know how anxious he is right now.

"You're home early."

"Because my pregnant wife won't adhere to her maternity leave."

"Really, Mr. Grey?"

"Well, that and I was finished with everything that required my presence for the day."

"Your presence is required to kiss me, and you haven't done that since you blessed me with your presence."

Without speaking another word, Christian closes the space between our mouths. "Now that I've corrected that oversight, is there anything else you would like my presence to do?" I know the meaning and implications behind the look he is giving me all too well. They will only lead us to one place.

"Mommy! Daddy, home!" Our toddler ball of little boy energy runs toward us.

"A great many things, but they will all have to wait." I laugh and turn out of Christian's arms. He catches Ted and tosses him up in the air. Teddy squeals and laughs. Christian does it again. He blows kisses on Ted's tummy and props him on his hip.

The kettle on the stove whistles shrilly and I flip the burner off. Gail shoos me out of the kitchen, insisting that she will finish my tea. I am bullied back to my previous spot on the sofa by her and Christian. If it were up to the two of them I would stay in this spot for the next two weeks.

It is not long before the room is littered with little boy toys. Teddy has taken over. Soon dolls will sprinkle the landscape of trucks and trains. Or will she prefer to play with her brothers toys? Only time will tell. I never cared for dolls much as a child. I wonder if my little girl will be the same way.

Christian flips a page in the manuscript I have given him. He's sitting near my feet and has been quietly engrossed in the pages I have already read. "I'm only ten pages in," he starts and I light up inside knowing exactly what he's going to say. "This is a rare gem. Who is this author?"

"Hannah emailed me his biography information. His name is Travis Aarons. He is a recent graduate of WSU Vancouver."

He raises an eyebrow at me and closes the file folder. "He's young then?"

"I assume."

"You don't know?"

"I didn't do a background check on him, Christian. I'm only going by what was sent in the email. It's the first manuscript he's sent to us. Hannah will do a more thorough interview should we decide to publish him."

He taps the folder with his index finger. "Publish him. You would be silly not to. Not many authors have the talent this young man exhibited in just the first few pages. Not even if they write ten books. Practice does not make this level of perfect."

"I knew you'd like it."

"I do." He sets the folder on the coffee table. "I still don't approve of you disobeying your maternity leave." I alter my sitting position slightly. The twinge in my back is back. "What is it?" He asks, noticing my discomfort.

"Nothing, just some back pain. That's normal when you're carrying a seven pound basketball in your front."

"We see, Dr. Greene tomorrow." He says like it is some big secret that I have my thirty six week appointment tomorrow.

"Yes, I know."

"We will tell her about this back pain you are experiencing." So very bossy, this man who I love. _And she will tell you that it is normal, Christian._ I say this in my head, not with my mouth. "You're sassing me in your mind."

"And what if I am?" He always knows. After almost three years of marriage I have come to a conclusion. Christian Grey is a mind reader. At least for my mind.

"Mrs. Grey, how soon you forget where we are."

I rub my hands over my belly. "I am pregnant, Mr. Grey. Certain things are off limits." Who am I kidding? Very few things are off limits between Christian and me.

" _You_ are not off limits." He stands and leans down to whisper in my ear. "My birthday chair will be used tonight."

Oh, the tantra chair in the red room. Yes, that was a good investment. I cannot wait to make use of the financial venture I made for Christian's birthday this year. An investment into our lifestyle of kinky fuckery, never a bad choice. Never a dull moment.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you all for your prayers and positive thoughts for my friend. I am happy to announce that, after a long week, she is out of the ICU and should be coming home on Monday. She still has a long road ahead of her, so please continue prayers if you don't mind. Those days, Saturday through Tuesday, when I stood by her bedside and held her hand were some of the hardest days of my life. She was sedated and on a ventilator until Wednesday. Seeing her like that...I cannot find words to explain it. I knew she had to be in there, but I had no reassurance that she was until Wednesday when we were able to talk again. Thank you all. I will never be able to thank you enough. I hope you enjoy the new chapter, and please excuse the long time between the two chapters. I wish I could offer reassurance that the next one will come quicker, but I can't. I will be keeping my friend's 4 year old son during this next week and taking him to school. Going from having a 14 year old to having a 4 and 14 year old is going to be an adjustment. ;) ****

Taking a break from her life, my mother is now moving her attention on to me. I wriggle my toes, I can just see the painted tips of my toenails over my belly. I feel like we're playing 20 questions. Teddy is asleep and has been for a while now. Christian is working in his study, no doubt waiting for my phone call with my mother to end.

"You have a doctor's appointment tomorrow?" She asks for the third time. I sometimes wonder if she listens to the answer I give her the first time she asks the question, probably not.

"Yes." I find myself reciting _This Little Piggy_ , in my head. When did my literary world turn from Thomas Hardy to Mother Goose?

"How are you feeling? Are you having any contractions?" The first question is a repeat question, the second one is new.

"I have had a few on and off. Mainly my back is aching."

"You're back?" I swear it sounds like she's stopped breathing. "Is it persistent?"

I don't like the tone in her voice. Something is off about it, and I feel a frisson of worry crawl up my spine. "It has been this afternoon…why?"

"Ana, honey…I think you could be in labor." She says quietly.

The lights of nighttime Seattle blur in front of my eyes, my world falls out of focus for a nanosecond. Labor? No. I haven't had any real contractions today. I feel fine. I blink my eyes and refocus my vision. The red, white and yellow lights become clearer. I went into labor with Ted. I know what it feels like, and I do not feel like I did with Ted. I trace my fingers over my stretched t shirt. Is blip two trying to make an early entrance into the world? "I haven't had any contractions today, really."

"I had back pain with you, Ana. Please tell your doctor about it tomorrow. Have you told Christian?"

"I have."

"Is he concerned?"

I huff out a laugh. "Mom, Christian is always concerned. He's watching me like a hawk." I dart my eyes to the half closed door of his study. He's not watching me at the moment, but I know the door is open because he's listening to me. Mental note, lower my voice. I hope he didn't hear the contraction part of the conversation. He'll put some kind of tracking device on me. _Who are you trying to kid? He already tracks your every move?_ Touché, I think to my subconscious. Touché. He's been tracking me since the beginning. Christian Grey has stalking down to a fine art.

"Good." She's obviously on his side. "Let him. Listen to him, Ana. He only wants what is best for you. Let him take care of you."

Christian doesn't give me much of another choice when it comes to listening to him or allowing him to care for me. "I am and I will, Mom."

"Good." She says again, she has always been satisfied with Christian's overreacting ways. "I'm going to try to fly out tomorrow or the day after. Just in case you are going into labor, and if you're not I'm sure I can find something to do there in Seattle."

Will she be coming alone? I have yet to work out exactly what is happening in the Carla Adam's love triangle. I don't think she truly knows what is going on, and she's the top point of the triangle. "Ok, call me or text me and let me know when you're coming." _Mommy, I am glad she is coming._ Her hair brained and often eccentric ways make me absolutely crazy, but she is still my mom and I love her with all my heart.

"I will, honey. Try to get some rest."

"I will, Mom."

"I love you, baby girl."

"I love you too, Mom."

Christian is sitting behind his desk. His eyes are focused on the computer screen in front of him, and his fingers are rapping quickly over the keys. Their tap tap tapping sounds ferociously quick. He's working very intently on the task at hand. With one final strike he sits back in his chair, and looks up to see me.

"Your mom called?"

"She did." He heard the entire conversation. Slowly, with measured steps, I toddle my way to his desk. At one time I could hop up to sit on the desk, not now. I have a great fear of breaking it. The vision of me sitting on Christian's desk and it toppling to one side plays out in my mind. Never paying any attention to my insistent grumbles about my size, Christian reaches for my hand and pulls me into his lap. His chair swivels so that he is facing me and I am tugged into his arms. My legs rest over one of the chair arms. I swear I hear the piece of furniture groan and squeak under the duress of my increased weight. _I am sorry little office chair_.

"I hear that I am being likened to a hawk now."

I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile. "You heard that?"

"Hmmmm…" He nuzzles my neck and bites my skin. "I heard everything."

"It's very rude to eavesdrop, you know?"

"It is not eavesdropping when the conversation is loud and within ones earshot, without any straining required to hear it." He opens a hand over my bump. "You haven't had any contractions today?"

"I told you at dinner that I haven't."

"I know, but you might tell your mother things that you won't tell me."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm watching you like a hawk." He gives my words back to me.

I spread my hand on top of his. "You worry a lot."

He crinkles his brow and fixes his gaze to mine. As he speaks, his words are put together and planned, but I the fear of the unknown is present behind his eyes. It is perceptible on the back end of his words. "I spend my life worrying about you, especially at a time like this. I don't want any surprises like we had with Ted. I want everything to go smoothly and according to plan this time."

"There is no reason to believe that our daughter's arrival will be anything but smooth and according to plan," I say to douse the flames of his fears. There is a niggling voice in the back of my mind, which speaks differently to me. Phoebe Grey is not a very patient baby girl. She has not been the calm and cool baby her brother was when I carried him. I do not feel the conviction of my words to Christian, and that scares the heck out of me. I smile and run my forefinger around unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt. His chest hair peeks out and I tug at it. "I would like to make use of our playroom while we are here." Sinking my teeth into the flesh of my bottom lip I attempt to emphasize the extent of my desire. A low rumble of thunder sounds in the distance.

Christian ignores my blatant suggestion, which infuriates my ignited libido and my inner goddess. She is done talking. _Less talk, more action._ "When will your mother be arriving?" With his fingers he tugs my lip free from my teeth. He is expecting an answer and will not be dissuaded from receiving it.

"Tomorrow or the next day. She wasn't certain which day it would be. She wants to come early." He raises a theoretical eyebrow at me, and I think he's onto what my mother's concerns are. "She is just worried about me." His right eyebrow joins his still raised left. "Without any reason. Honestly, she's my mother. She worries too much." He lets his eyebrows down and grumbles something under his breath. "Is there something you would like to say, Mr. Grey?"

"No. I'll have Gail prepare the guest room for her. Shall I tell her that she is preparing the guest room and bath for one guest or two?"

Now there's the cusp of my unanswered, and unspoken, query as well. I do not have a certain response to offer. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"I see, so we're back to that clandestine state of affairs…"

My mother's love life is an unfinished novel, which consists or multiple pages torn from multiple books. All pasted together they form quite the jigsaw puzzle of a novel. "I would like to stray from this line of questioning and make our way to the playroom." I kiss his cheek, feeling the scruff of his five o'clock shadow tickle my lips.

With no caveat Christian stands from his chair, still holding me in his arms. He kicks his chair behind him and it rolls away from us. The wheels glide loudly over the hardwood floor, sounding like Teddy's toy truck wheels as he zooms them through the house. "Then by all means." He says and I grasp my arms around his neck to hold onto him. I am giggling like a school girl all the way up to the playroom.

In the playroom, Christian releases me from his arms. I watch him close the door and hear the lock click into place. In front of me the dark room illuminates. The blood red walls glow in their own element of ambiance. The subdued light is warmth and comfort.

"Why are we in here, Mrs. Grey?" He approaches me from behind and circles his arms around me, holding my belly. His hands broaden to cover my middle.

"Because we both want to be in here." I answer him truthfully. This is a desire we both have, together. Everything we are about to do is a mutual gift between the two of us.

His lips touch my ear. "Never a truer word spoken. Undress." He peels my t shirt up over my torso and over my head.

Not waiting for him, I slip my pants off and kick them out of my way. "Where do you want me?"

"Eager tonight?" He's left me and is rummaging around in the tall chest. He produces a pretty glass jar. It is a wide mouthed jar with what appears to be white substance in it. "Take off your panties and go lie down on the chair, on your left side." He clarifies the last bit, though I already knew which side to lay on.

I follow instructions. The red chair, matching the red sheets on the bed, and the red walls, is cool to my skin at first contact. It warms beneath me the longer I am on it. From here I can enjoy the floor show taking place in front of me. Christian strips of his clothing. Black dress slacks, white linen shirt, boxers and socks. Naked he pads over to join me, holding the jar in his hand.

"The last time we had sex you experienced pain here," he brushes his a hand between my legs, "after your orgasm."

"Yes, but I told you Christian…I asked Dr. Greene and she said that was common. I'm fine and…" He gives me a _stop talking_ look.

"We are going to have sex." Phew! I thought he was getting around to denying me, and was going to try to satisfy me with some kind of massage instead of his body. Christian twists the lid off of the jar. I can hear the motion of it happening. I cannot see a thing. "This is coconut oil. It is perfectly safe to use during pregnancy. I am going to massage you with it before we make love and after. Your body and your comfort are my responsibility, Ana, and I do not take either of those things lightly." He dips four fingers on one hand into the jar. With his other hand he guides my legs into position. "Bring your left leg on top of my right thigh and your right leg beneath my left."

Somehow I manage to maneuver myself into the position he desires. My chestnut hair, left unbraided, spills over the red leather. The smooth curvature of the chair supports my back and the constant ache ebbs away, either that or I'm so aroused by the position of our bodies that I forget about it. Sitting between my legs his erection is so close to wear I want it, my body tingles and aches for our union, he begins to rub his palms together. A copper curl falls out of place and over his eyes. I lift up and tuck it back into place.

"Am I going to have a massage?"

"Mmmmmm…definitely." The white cream turns to clear and liquefies with the warmth of his hands. He touches my smooth sex and begins working the lubricant into my skin.

First his hands stay on the outside of me. The silky warmth they smear over my skin feels so good. He spreads my body with is fingers and works the same delightful motions there. Over my clitoris and down. He spreads me open with his forefingers and massages me. I feel his fingers moving in a repetitive pattern. Spreading me open and down. He's done this before. I've felt him performing this same motion before. It's so intimate and open. His warm, slippery hands work down to my bottom and back up.

"What…What are you doing?" I manage to stammer out the question.

"It's called a perineal massage." His fingers continue their ministrations.

"Why are you doing it?" My voice is a breathy whisper.

"It is supposed to help you stretch in preparation for the baby."

"I'm having a c-section, though."

His eyes are focused on my body. "I read that it can alleviate discomfort too. I spoke with the doctor about it when you were carrying Ted." I think back to when I was carrying Ted and I remember him doing this same thing. That was when we thought I would have a normal delivery, how wrong we were. I had no idea that he had spoken with Dr. Greene then about such things.

I pule and whimper softly at his touch. "More?" He asks holding the jar up in my line of sight.

"Please."

Another round of delicate, yet meaningful, pressures to the apex of my thighs begins. He stretches the skin down with a bit more pressure, holds it and then releases it. The longer holds border on the edge of discomfort but never cross it. Christian soothes my body with a delicate swipe of his fingers. "Do you want to come?"

"Yes."

The lubrication from the oil combined with my own personal moisture, allows his fingers to slip in with no effort. He flicks his fingers and I cry out in a sudden, brusque eruption of pleasure. Fuck. He gave me no warning. I float back down and he bends over to put the jar on the floor. He speaks while directing my body. "I want this leg here." He directs my left leg on top of his other leg. His thigh is between both of my legs. He gently guides me so that I am fully on my left side. The chair cradles my pregnant belly. He puts a hand around my back and places it between my skin the chair. "I'm going to support you here." His fingers flex in indication. "If you feel too much weight from the baby, tell me. We are in the chair so that the chair and I can bear all of the weight for you. I want you to be comfortable. Is this position comfortable?"

"Yes."

He runs a hand under my heavy breasts and guides me back on him. My stretched and slick skin welcomes him. "Move how you want to, baby." Front and back, he supports me and conducts me to move. I am, as always, his instrument and he is the composer of each concerto of our lovemaking.

I am rocking up and down. His hardness glides in and out of my softness. Fuck. I need this. I let my hands find my breasts, and with my fingers I tease and pull at my nipples. Everything about them and my breasts is sore and sensitive, but my own touch I can tolerate. I know how much to tighten and how much to loosen my hold on them.

"Touch yourself, Ana." He encourages me, liking what he sees. "Squeeze your nipples when I push inside of you."

I squeeze on his thrusts and release on his pulls. I find myself losing coherent though and control over every aspect of my mind. I am only body and sexual sensation. I am acting on a purely primordial response to the joining of his body and mine.

As I speed up I brace one hand on his knee and the other at the back of his neck. "So…close…so…close…" I pant out between breaths.

"I want it all." He growls out between his teeth, and I give it to him. Heating liquid mixes with my own and we are both coming. "Ana!" He calls out my name and in turn I call out his.

"Christian!"

I don't cease. I want everything we have to offer to one another with our bodies. I want this intimate connection of my husband making love to me during, what I know are, my last few days of my pregnancy with our second child. He holds tightly to me. Never relinquishing the support he is giving my body. That security gives me the freedom to take my pleasure for as long as my body offers it to me.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Here it is ladies and gentlemen! :) Thank you all for your love, patience, and prayers. My friend came home from the hospital on Tuesday. She is well, but has a long road of recovery ahead of her. I was busy caring for her son last week, the reason for my absence. I hope you all enjoy the new chapter. Please keep your prayers coming. Thank you. I love you all._**

 ** _Christian's POV_**

In the disrupted darkness I slide my hand over cool and empty sheets. Where is she? My brain registers her absence and I open my eyes. The night sky flashes white. Sizzling webs of electricity crawl their way down from the heavens. Ana. She is pacing slowing in front of the windows. In the between streaks of light I see her shadow moving. Her hands are holding her middle.

"Ana?" I struggle to kick the sheets from my legs. A foreboding mood settles over me. She stops her pacing. Another round of lightening is followed by thunder, low and in the distance it grumbles its way atmosphere. She smiles at me, and for a second I can see it. There is something unsettling behind her smile. My feet find the floor and I rush over to her. Leaving the bedsheets hanging off my side of the bed. "What is it?"

Her smile falters and she gasps, gripping her lower belly. "I'm having contractions. They're not real, but they are uncomfortable."

What an absurd thing to say. "How do you know they're not real?" She's brushing off the pain she is having. This woman is so stubborn. She is positively maddening. "Have you been timing them? Are they coming regularly?" I am aware of the fact that I am asking her questions, which she has already asked herself. What are the answers, though? The answers are what I need to know, and I need the truth.

"No," she grits the words out. Her teeth are clenched. She stoops over and bears down. "And…I. Don't. Know."

Fuck. I run my hands through my hair. "Ana, we're going to the hospital. Get dressed." I'm exasperated and concerned. Hell, I'm a ball of nerves and worry all rolled into one. This should not be happening. She has a doctor's appointment tomorrow. If that woman still is a doctor when I'm through with her. She should have caught this at the last appointment. She wasn't concerned then. _She's just one centimeter dilated, Mr. Grey. It's perfectly normal at this point in her pregnancy. There's no reason to second guess our scheduled cesarean date._ Fucking fool that she is. She'll be lucky if I don't have her medical license revoked after this is all said and done. I fumble to grasp my phone from my pants pocket on the floor. I will call my mother after I see to Ted.

I stalk my way to the door quickly. Gail will care for Ted while we go to the hospital, I only need to check on him now. The storms will frighten him. Taylor will drive us to the hospital. I'm in the hall running through my mental list of responsibilities, when everything goes silent. An explosion of noise and light rush through the apartment, followed by silence and blinding darkness. I turn and look behind me. Past Ana, out the bedroom windows, I can see nothing. The entire city is cloaked in obscurity.

"Ana?" I swallow to hide the tremble in my voice.

"I'm here, I'm still here by the window." The room is lit for a brief second. I see her still standing and holding her middle. "The power went out." She states the obvious. "I think the entire city is out." There is not one light lit anywhere. The city at our feet is black.

A few lights flick back on, but only a few. It must be back up generators supplying the power. I wait for the same to happen for us but it doesn't. Why aren't the lights coming back on? Escala is equipped with a state of the art back of power system. "The lights will come back on." I say with certainty. They have to come back on, and they do, for all of five seconds. Shit. Shit. Shit. The system has failed. That's another head which will roll when this is all over. Dr. Greene for her incompetent medical abilities as an obstetrician and whoever the fool is responsible for the generator system at Escala.

The only light in the room is the small green light on Ana's bedside table belonging to the baby monitor. Surprisingly enough the monitor is quiet. "I'm going to check on Ted. I will be right back. Get dressed." My forceful tone has simmered down a bit.

In the hall I collide with Mrs. Taylor. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Grey." She's flustered and carrying a flashlight. "I've just checked on Ted. He is still sleeping. Jason has gone down the back stairwell to check in on the generator situation."

"Christian!" A scream comes from our room and I am running. Mrs. Taylor is on my heels. She sweeps the light through the room and it lands on Ana. Standing to the side of the window now, she has one hand on the wall bracing herself.

"My water broke, I think."

She thinks? Reading my mind Gail sweeps the light down. A small of fluid is there. "I'm calling an ambulance, Mr. Grey." She passes the flashlight to me and darts out of the dark room. The fact that she is running through a dark house only crosses my mind momentarily. Gail will call the paramedics. She will find another flash light. We will get Ana to the hospital.

I set the light on the floor, standing it to point at the ceiling. An insipid circle of light bathes the room. "You need to lie down." I'm at Ana's side, taking her by her hand. She pulls back.

"No. I don't want to."

"You need to sit down." Why is she arguing with me right now? Can she not see this situation for what it is? She is in labor. The entire city of Seattle is at the mercy of these hellish storms and has gone dark. She is in labor at thirty six weeks pregnant. Jesus Christ this cannot be happening.

"I want to stand, please. Just walk with me like you did in the hallway at the hospital when I was in labor with Ted. Please." The memory kicks me in the gut. We walked the hospital corridor for hours and ended up in the OR. What if that happens again? What if we don't make it to the OR? What if…what if…

Ana squeezes my hand with the strength of twenty men. "Walk. Please. Christian."

Given no choice we begin making the same strides as we did over two years ago, this time we are in our own bedroom. We should be at the hospital. I support her with an arm around her back and hold one of her hands on top of her belly. We stop and she breathes through each contraction. There are so many of them. They are so close. Please God slow this down. She won't make it to the hospital if these contractions do not slow. Where is Gail? Did she fucking get lost or something? She knows this apartment like the back of her hand. Did she suddenly forget how to dial a fucking phone?

"Breathe…" I say, coaxing my Ana through the torment of pain ripping through her body. She smiles weakly up at me. Through all of this she is still smiling.

"I can do this part, Christian. I've done it before. I just don't remember it every being this intense with Ted." The contraction passes and she is able to talk more for a brief amount of time.

She doesn't remember the contractions being this intense with Ted because they weren't. They were never this close together. They were never this strong. That is why I feel like jumping out of my damned skin. We stop our pacing when Gail appears at the doorway. The look on her face tells me everything I need to know, and I want another answer right away. Not the same answer. A completely different answer. The answer I want. Not the answer I am being given.

"The paramedics are going to be awhile. There is a massive fire down near Elliot Bay and Alaskan." I hear the first part of her explanation and the rest fades out, as my world falls from beneath my feet. "Piers 62 and 63," Gail says and I haven't the mind to ask her for any details. I do not care about the details. Ana is having our baby and she needs help.

"Gail!" I yell her name, and Ana shudders in my arms. Gail instantly stops mindless prattling, but I instantly regret my harsh tone, she is just as scared as I am. The chastened look of fear on her face, she's as white as a ghost. "Please, find some help for Mrs. Grey. I don't know how long we have." We could drive to the hospital, but every light in the city is out. Should I move her and risk something happening in the car?

"Yes, sir." She leaves the room in a rush.

"Gail will find help, Ana." I reassure my wife, but I cannot for the life of me decide why I am reassuring her of something that I cannot be sure of myself. There is no way I can guarantee that there is help to find, I just have to hope and pray. Prayer, now there is an ironic word coming from me. Every time I have prayed in my adult life it has been for or related to my Ana. Her or Ted. They are the two people who have given me a reason to believe in anything spiritual again. _Please God, bring help for my wife and our unborn daughter._ I have three reasons to believe now. I murmur the soundless words and say _amen_ for good measure. Someone has to hear my prayer. I need it to be answered.

 ** _Ana's POV_**

Someone is touching my shoulder. Someone that is not Christian. He's still here with me. He's holding me up and I'm walking, but now I've stopped. I feel like I have been warped into a strange and ethereal out of body experience. I hear Christian's voice, he's speaking and I hear him say my name.

The hand on my opposite arm presses my skin gently. "Mrs. Grey, my name is Dr. Sherri Linstade. I am a Certified Nurse Midwife, a Doctor of Nursing Practice and an Advanced Registered Nurse Practitioner. May I help you?"

I weekly nod my head. I hear Christian questioning the poor woman who has just identified herself to me further. Calmly she reassures him of her medical expertise. "I am on staff at University of Washington Medical Center, Mr. Grey. Can we get your wife to the bed so that I can examine her?"

"Ana, can you walk to the bed?"

"I can." The contraction passes fully and I open my eyes. The room is lit by a few flashlights. It is brighter in here than it was earlier. How long have I had my eyes closed? Christian supports me the entire way to the bed. I can hear Gail talking somewhere nearby. It sounds like she is on the phone with the paramedics. "How did you get here?" I ask the woman who has introduced herself as Sherri.

"I live in the building, Mrs. Grey."

I look to Christian is question and he answers me. "Taylor." I smile and lean back against the pillow as instructed. More questions are asked. How far I am in my pregnancy, who my doctor is, I am pleased when Sherri tells me that she has delivered babies with Dr. Greene in the past. None of my answers or anything that is happening jolts Dr. Linstade. Her demeanor puts me at ease.

Christian's hand moves over my forehead, as he brushes my hair back. The anxieties he is feeling are etched all over his face. My poor Fifty, this is not going according to plan at all. This is out of his control and he's fighting to maintain his composure.

Every muscle in my abdomen begins to tighten and I grip Christian's hand. "Another one is coming," I ground out the words and bear down against the pain again. I close my eyes so tightly that I see flecks of blue in the darkness.

"The paramedics are on their way." Gail's voice comes to my ears.

"They may make it in time to see this baby being born." Dr. Linstade's touches my knees. "Mrs. Grey, your baby is crowing. I can see her head. Do you feel like you can push?"

"Push?" Christian's voice bellows in my ear. I hear Gail gasp aloud and begin talking fervently into the phone. A fresh round of rain beats sideways into the windows and the room irradiates again with brilliant white light. "Ana, the ambulance is coming, just hold on." He's scared. God, so am I.

"I need to!" I scream out the three words. My body is taking over and I have never been more out of control in my life. "I need up!" Fuck I cannot stay on my back. "My back!" I'm screaming and I think half of what I am saying is making no sense at all. I cannot hold on Christian. I want to tell him this, and I think I do but I'm not sure. I become only vaguely aware of the activity in the room.

Dr. Linstade talks firmly to Christian and then to Gail. She's asking him to support me behind my back and she's asking Gail for towels and her medical supplies. It's happening. My baby girl is coming and I've only ever been this scared one other time in my life. My body takes over and I obey its command. The pain is overwhelming and I am a shirt being torn at the seams. I don't know which way to turn or what to do, so I focus on the composed voice of the woman in front of me.

Suddenly, as quickly as my world was tiling and teetering off of its axis, it rights itself. The pressure in my middle is relieved and a sensation of completion washes over me. I collapse back against Christian. A soft whimper, as soft as the sound of a feather dropping on a still pond, meets my ears. I look up from where my head is resting on Christian's chest to see a serene look of awe come over his face.

"Mrs. Grey, you have a beautiful baby girl."

"Phoebe Rose," Christian breathes out her name. His eyes are locked on our daughter. I allow myself to look forward, and there she is. Pink and covered in blood and mush, she is beautiful. She reaches her arms and legs out to the sides and whimpers again. Dr. Linstade places her on my chest and I cover her with my arms. She is warm and perfect. She is ours.

 **THE FIRST RAYS OF** dawn shine through the square window. I blink my eyes against them and am momentarily disoriented. Last night was so dark and bright. Blindingly bright and obscurely dark at the same time. My hand reflexively moves to my now deflated belly and I panic for an instant, then I remember. I am in the hospital. Last night comes rushing back to me in surge of images. The memories of what happened and how Phoebe Rose Grey made her very dramatic entrance into the world are with me. They will forever be with me. Another sense of panic seizes at my heart until I shift my head to look to my left.

"Good morning, Mommy," he whispers. He is a disheveled mess, a heart stopping gorgeous disheveled mess of a man. My man. My husband, dressed in his jeans and a white t shirt. Sleeping on his chest, wrapped in a pale pink blanket with a pink knit cap on her head, is our daughter. He has a hand cupping her tiny bottom to support her. She looks so petite against his muscled frame.

"Did last night really happen?" I ask, trying to assimilate everything. What I thought was a back ache yesterday has turned into the birth of Phoebe. How long have I been asleep? It feels like forever, but I know it has only been a few hours. I try to move, but find that my whole body is sore. I feel like I've been run over by a truck and like I've just won three gold medals at the Olympic Games all at the same time. It is an odd combination to experience, but right now in my jumble of exhaustion and euphoria I can think of no other way to describe how I feel.

Christian stands still holding our baby girl with one hand, she's so small, and he pulls the strings at the top of my gown. He places our daughter against my skin and I hold her in my arms. "It did. Good morning, Mommy." He kisses my lips.

"Good morning, Daddy. Where is Ted?"

"Mom should be with him now. They will come when I call them to."

"Everything is alright at home?"

"Everything is fine."

I look down at the sleeping angel in my arms. "And she is alright?"

"Dr. Greene has been in to see her twice already. She is coming back to check on you again shortly."

"So she is alright?" Phoebe was born at 36 weeks. My fears are real and substantiated by medical statistics.

"She's here with us, isn't she? She is strong. Dr. Greene was amazed by her strength and development. She said most babies born as early as she was spend a few days in the NICU. Phoebe will not need any of that. She will go home with us tomorrow."

I look down in wonder at my daughter, my second born child. Peeking out from under her pink cap is the fairest hair I have ever seen. "Ted had dark hair," I say in observation. I touch her fingers and she grasps onto my finger, holding it tightly. "She is strong." For the first time in the light of the new day she blinks her eyes open. They are not the dark shade of blue that Ted's once were. No, they are clear and guileless. A subtle hue of powder blue. Fair hair and blue eyes belong to my baby girl.

"Like you." Christian touches her other hand and she holds onto him too. "You are so strong, Mrs. Grey." There is reverence and wonder in his voice. "I am in constant awe of you. Last night…" He doesn't finish the sentence, but I know what he is thinking. He is replaying the same memories in his mind as I did when I first woke up. He never left my side through any of last night's ordeals. The ambulance ride, checking in at the hospital, he was with me the entire time. He held fast to me and to our daughter, never letting either one of us out of his sight. I think he made a few nurses mad. Fortunately Dr. Linstade was a patient woman and Dr. Greene knows his controlling tendencies.

Phoebe whimpers the same faint sound she first made when she was born. She roots her mouth against my chest just as she did last night. Christian pulls my gown down to expose my breast. With little trouble she finds her goal and latches on. "Mommy will feed you." He tells our new baby daughter. His words resound with me, he told our Teddy the same thing. With bright eyes, absorbing her surroundings, Phoebe Rose Grey nurses at my breast. All the while she holds tightly to her daddy's finger. _Your daddy will hold you forever, baby girl, just as he holds me and your big brother._


	6. Chapter 6

Here is the moment you have all been waiting for :) Thank you all again for reading. BTW, I just want to say again, I know I've said it before but it bears repeating with this chapter...I know EL James wrote Ted's eyes as blue, making them gray was the only small change I made on my own in writing my stories. I am aware, and I hope you all don't mind. Enjoy.

I find myself unable to take my eyes off of her. My fingers refuse to stop touching her paper soft skin and wisps of blonde hair. The only time I relinquish her from my arms is when Dr. Greene comes in to examine me, and then I hand her to Christian. He stands by my bedside, keeping a watchful eye on me as Dr. Greene goes about her work. Although the exam is less than pleasant, no doctor's exam is a cake walk, I focus on the breathtaking picture of my husband swaying our perfect daughter in his arms. A sweet baby girl version of my Teddy. At only a few hours old I am already seeing the differences in their personalities. She is not the vocal baby that Ted was. She is quite and demure. Only grunting or whimpering her needs. She will be the calm to his wild.

Dr. Greene finishes my exam by pressing on my middle. I bite my lips through the discomfort. The pressure along with the cramping… _mmmmm_ …She could stop at any time now. Mentally I mutter a few choice curse words. "Has your mother been in to check on the baby yet?" She directions her question to Christian, her hands still performing torture on my abdomen.

He continues his melodic dance of parenthood. "She will be here soon." He kisses the top of our daughter's head over her pink knit cap.

"Good." She smiles in Phoebe's direction. "She is a beautiful baby. Her apgar scores at thirty-six weeks gestation astonished the nursing staff."

I don't miss the pride filled grin on Christian's face. "She is strong like her mother."

Dr. Greene moves her hands and gives me a warm expression. "She is very strong." There is a hint of pride in the doctor's voice too. She has a special fondness for my babies, or at least I like to think so. It could be due to the unconventional manner of our first appointment. Our patient/physician relationship has always been what I would consider odd due to that first meeting. Odd in a good way. "I will be by tomorrow to look in on you again, Mrs. Grey. You are doing very well with your recovery thus far. Do you need anything in the mean time?"

"No, not that I can think of." I let out a sigh, relieved for the respite my battered middle is now receiving.

She gives me a rundown of what I can expect from my body over the next few days. Admittedly it leaves my head spinning. This is not something I know. It is completely different from last time. Inwardly I cringe at some parts of her enumeration. Christian on the other hand is dutifully listening to every word the doctor says. No doubt I will find a complete set of postpartum supplies for my delicate nether region when I return home. The thought makes me want to roll my eyes and cry all at the same time. Hormones combined with a wonderfully overprotective husband can do that to a girl.

Once we are alone in the room again, Christian comes to sit at the foot of my bed. "I think the good doctor is amazed by you and our daughter, Mrs. Grey."

"She is amazing." I look between his dear face and the face of our baby girl. I struggle to sit up against the aching protest of my exhausted body. Pressing my knuckles into the bed I manage to prop myself up, and scoot over to the side of the bed. There, now I'm satisfied with my position. I pat the now empty space next to me and pull the sheets back. "Come, bring her here."

Christian slips his shoes off, they drop to the floor with two thuds, and carefully makes his way up to sit next to me. He reclines back on my pillows, keeping his hand behind Phoebe's head. His long fingers nearly swallow her whole. She is six pounds and five ounces of littleness in his arms. She is safe with him. He supports her body and together we hold her between us. She crinkles her nose and opens her mouth, forming the tiniest _o_ she yawns. "Sleep now my beautiful girls." Christian feathers a kiss against my temple, and I snuggle into his side.

I strain to keep my eyes open, wanting to watch her sleep for a few minutes more, but my attempts are futile. Christian begins to hum a lullaby. The reverberations of his deep melodic voice soothe me to sleep. She is here. The hard part, for now, is over and I can sleep.

 **THREE SOFT KNOCKS ON** the door wake me. For a fleeting moment I am disoriented. I open my eyes and scan my surroundings. I am in my hospital bed with my husband and our newborn baby girl. The afternoon sunlight streams across the white sheets, casting its fair incandescence over her face. The door squeaks open a crack. "Do you three feel like having a visitor or three?" Grace peeks around the corner. Behind her I hear the chattering voice of my son.

I am wide awake now. I look up from where my head has been resting on Christian's shoulder. He is already awake, and I am sure he has been for some time. He's probably been watching Phoebe and me sleep. "Of course," I smile broadly. How can I be so sleepy and still feel so alive? That's what babies do to you. My subconscious, for the first time since Phoebe was born, makes an appearance with her sage motherly advice.

Christian shifts to pass Phoebe into my arms. I take her and she grunts like a little piglet displaying, in her own way, her protest for being disturbed. Christian is on his feet just in time to bend down and catch our little man. A toddler tornado of energy. He hoists him up in his arms. "Daddy! Big tunder gone." His world has just changed drastically with the arrival of his sister, and all he can think about is the thunderstorms. Such a little boy. My little boy. I notice Grace and Carrick hanging back by the door.

"They are gone, the sun is shining." Christian replies to Ted's words. He points out the window and then turns his back to the wall. "Look…" He shows Ted where I am lying in the hospital bed holding Phoebe in my arms. "Do you see who Mommy is holding?" Teddy crinkles his forehead in confusion and raises one eyebrow.

"Mommy…" He says inaudibly. His word trails off in curiosity and wonder. I can see the gears turning in his brain, as he works out the picture before him.

"Mommy had your baby sister when the thunder was here." My heart squeezes, I love the way Christian chose to word the story of the birth of Phoebe Rose.

There was thunder, intense lightening, and cleansing torrents of rain all coming down and surrounding us during her birth. Fear, pain, and overpowering joy painted the moment of her arrival into the world. My world. Christian's world. Our world. _Isn't that how he felt when you entered his world?_

Teddy considers his father's explanation. "Siter?"

"Yes. Mommy is holding your sister. Would you like to see Phoebe?"

He looks to Christian and then back at me. He's hesitant. "It's okay, Ted." I try to encourage him. He appears thrown off and a tad overwhelmed by the circumstances. "Will you come sit by me?" He doesn't say 'no.' He doesn't say anything. He clings to Christian and watches me. I catch Grace's watchful eye and she gives me a reassuring smile. I try again. "Daddy will sit with us. He will hold you." This time Ted nods his head, 'yes.'

Christian comes back to his place on my hospital bed. Ted sits quietly in his lap. The hesitation on our son's face has made its way to Christian's face as well. He is uncertain of how to continue on with this introduction. Feeling Grace's support from where she is still standing by the door I speak to Ted. "She has blue eyes, you had blue eyes when you were a tiny baby too."

"Siter, sleep."

"She is asleep now, but when she wakes up she will open her eyes, and you will see them. They are blue."

"Mommy, blue eyes."

"Yes, just like Mommy. Phoebe has blue eyes like I do."

He looks up at Christian. "Daddy, me, blue eyes?" He is visibly relaxing and warming up. My patience is paying off. The last time he saw me we were in Escala and I his baby sister was still a figment of not quite reality. Now we are in a hospital, a strange place to him, and she is in my arms.

"No, you and Daddy have gray eyes. Phoebe and I have blue eyes."

On cue, Phoebe blinks her eyes open. She focuses on my face. "Siter, eyes open."

"She woke up to see you, Teddy bear. You can touch her." His shyness returns and he holds on to Christian's shirt. "She likes to hold hands." I graze a finger over her tiny palm, running it between my bare skin and hers, and she grasps it. Ted watches me and only a few moments pass before he reaches his hand out. Slowly, but surely, he touches Phoebe's other hand. Feeling his touch she opens her fingers and flexes them around his fingers. "Let her hold your finger like she is holding mine. One finger," I tell him. He points his finger out and Phoebe takes hold.

The smile which takes hold of Teddy's face is instantaneous. "Siter hold me." He exclaims in delight.

"Yes, baby boy." I blink back my tears. I look up at Christian and see him fighting back his own tears. His gray eyes are rimmed in red. "Your baby sister is holding your hand."

Teddy stays perfectly still. His gray eyes marvel at the miracle of Phoebe. I know he at two years old does not grasp the immensity of this moment, the moment he is meeting his sister for the first time but I do. Out of the corner of my eye I see Carrick hand Grace a tissue. She waves him off, but takes the tissue anyway. Smiling and crying at the same time.

He looks back to see his grandma and grandpa. "Siter hold me!" He says again, this time more excitedly.

Taking this as their cue, Grace and Carrick move further into the room. They do not disturb the connection between their two grandchildren, but the _oo's_ and _ahh's_ over our sweet baby Phoebe begin. They are only the first, of what I am sure will be many, as the day goes on. She has an entire line up of visitor's making their way to see her. I only wonder how many of her visitors will have the chance to hold her. I doubt that her daddy or her brother will give up a minute of their time with her. Sharing is not a trait either one of them possess strongly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you Magician Irono for reminding me about the dress! :) I included it in this chapter. In the epilogue of Freed, Ana and Christian named their unborn baby girl Phoebe Grey. They did not choose a middle name for her. I chose Rose as that is Ana's middle name. The Anastasia Rose and the Phoebe Rose are actual types of roses ;) The Anastasia Rose is pure white and the Phoebe Rose is brilliant pink. Enjoy this chapter, and thank you all for reading!**

 **MIA IS THE ONLY** person who manages to coax Christian into allowing her to hold Phoebe. Other than Grace, and he only relinquished her to his mother because she is her pediatrician, and she had to examine her.

"Vous serez mes petites princesses. Ava et toi. Mes petite princesses." Mia fusses over Phoebe in French. I am able to catch a few words, but most of it flies right over my head. I know she is calling Ava and Phoebe princesses, at least that's what I interpret her words to mean. Phoebe watches her, as if she understands the language impeccably. I think her fascinations with Mia also has something do with the large silver hoops in Mia's ears. Teddy loved anything shiny when he was a baby.

"She doesn't speak French, Mia." Christian rolls his eyes at his sister and she turns to him.

"She doesn't speak English either, Christian." She says sticking her tongue out in good humor. She then goes back to her eloquently spoken French chatter with our Phoebe. Phoebe blinks her eyes and opens her mouth. A little squeaky noise escapes. "See? She's trying to learn French already."

"She speaks Uncle Elliot," Elliot attempts to take her from his sisters arms, but Mia refuses to let her go.

" _Uncle Elliot_ is not a language." There is playful sarcasm in Christian's voice.

Elliot appears affronted. "It's not but it should be. Come one, Mia. Stop being such a baby hog."

"Wait your turn." She admonishes and moves away from him with a step to the right. "I am talking to my second little princess."

Elliot scoffs, "My turn, yeah. As soon as she is back in Christian's arms none of us will be granted a turn. It's now her never little sis." He holds up a pinkie finger. "Around her little finger, bro. She has you wrapped around her little finger, and she isn't even a day old yet." He says shaking his finger at Christian. He knows what he speaks of. Ava has him in the exact same spot. My nearly six month old strawberry blonde hair niece is Elliot Grey's night and day. The sun and moon rise and set around her. Together they are a pair. Their shenanigans will only increase as she grows up.

"I think not," Christian lifts Ted up from where he is in the process of wriggling down from my bed.

"Yeah, right. And he has you around his other little finger." Elliot nods in Ted's direction.

Teddy giggles and Christian tickles his tummy. I watch them from where I am sitting. "Ticktle, Daddy." Ted wiggles his fingers against Christian's neck, and for effect Christian laughs.

"Told you…" Elliot holds his pinkie up again. "Around his little finger."

Christian can deny both accusation all he likes. Everyone in the room, including me, knows Elliot speaks the truth. Christian Grey's world now rises and sets with three people instead of just two.

Ted leaves left the room in search of snacks with Carrick. The promise of vending machines filled with sugary sweets attract his attention elsewhere. It is an easy task to accomplish. All Carrick has to do is mention a snack and he is off and running. As our list of visitors begins to wind down, for now at least, I feel myself doing the same. Mom is on her way here and will arrive sometime this evening. Ray and Lynn will do the same. Lynn's daughter, Sharon, has taken Alexander off their hands for the trip. When I last spoke to Lynn on the phone they were leaving Montesano. She sounded happy to have a few days for just her and Ray to enjoy. I can identify with her happiness. A moment to breathe alone during motherhood is sometimes a welcome thing.

The voices in the room begin to grow further away, and I blink my eyes. Fighting the impending sleep. A cry from my newborn baby causes my eyes to pop back open. In her aunt's arms she scrunches her face up and wriggles an arm free from her swaddled blanket.

"I think that is our cue to exit," Grace says. "Phoebe needs to be fed and Ana needs her rest." She looks at me knowingly. She caught me dozing.

I blush and tuck a few stray strands from my messy ponytail behind my ear. Smiling, I mouth, "thank you," to her. I hate to send everyone away, but she's right I need to rest. I uncross my legs and cross them again. I would like to sit in a chair, but sitting anywhere other than this bed is not comfortable right now. Heck, this bed isn't comfortable right now, but it will have to do.

Begrudgingly, Mia passes Phoebe back to Christian. "I will see you when you settle in at home my little princess."

Phoebe continues her rather noisy demands for food, which causes everyone to exit quickly. Once in my arms she quiets for a split moment, allowing us to speak a few words around her cries. "Thank for brining, Ted." I tell Grace, as she gathers her purse and scarf from one of the hospital green chairs in the room.

"You're welcome, now to see if I can find the two of them."

"They're near snack machine." I offer a clue as to Carrick and Ted's whereabouts.

Grace pauses and her eyes search between Christian and me. "Christian, honey…I know I'm offering this and you're not going to take me up on it, but I will say it anyway. You look exhausted, do you want to go home and get some rest. I can stay here with Ana and the baby."

Christian stands straight from where he has been leaning over, fussing about the arrangement of my blankets and sheets. "Mom," he touches her elbow and kisses her cheek. "You know I'm not leaving."

"I know, but you look exhausted." She is a mother doting on her son. I can relate. She locks eyes with me. "Has he slept any?"

I laugh aloud, "Not that I'm aware of. He's been watching the two of us since she arrived."

"You _can_ put Phoebe in her bassinette, Christian. Get some sleep while she sleeps. You know the drill." She drapes her scarf around her neck. "Oh, I almost forgot." She pulls her purse, bag or suitcase would be better descriptions, open and searches in side. The turquoise Coach is large, very large. "Gail gave this to me when we went to fetch Teddy this morning. She said you were going to pack it in the hospital bag, Ana, but you never got around to it."

She offers me the bundle wrapped in pink tissue paper. I fight back tears, knowing it what the paper is concealing. "Thank you, Grace." I place it on my lap.

"Do you need anything else?"

"No, Taylor brought my bag this morning."

She nods satisfied. "Please, Christian try to get some sleep."

He promises to do as she is suggesting, I wonder how much weight I should put by his promise. I doubt he has any intentions of putting his daughter down so that he can sleep. "He will," I interrupt their conversation. "After she is fed and changed I will make him take a nap." I feel like I'm talking about Ted, but in a sense I am. I am talking about the all grown up version of Teddy.

"And I will make sure your Teddy has a nap too." Grace leans over the side of my bed to kiss my cheek. "Take care of yourself and my new granddaughter, Ana."

"I will." Phoebe's cries start up again.

"Bye." Grace gives us a little wave and leaves, shutting the door softly behind her.

 **A FULL TUMMY MAKES** our little Phoebe a much happier baby. She sleeps through her diaper change. Christian fastens her diaper tabs and zips her pink footed onesie back up. I take another drink from my water bottle and finish the banana I am eating. "Afternoon snack wore her out." I take my sleeping baby from her daddy.

"You should sleep too." He disposes of the soiled diaper and joins us on the bed.

"You too."

"I can't stop looking at her."

"Me neither." The desire I have to watch her as if she will disappear is the same as I had when Ted was born. It is like I am trying memorize every single detail of her tiny features.

"What is this?" Christian takes the loosely wrapped package from where it has slipped beside my leg.

"Open it." I encourage him. I want to see his reaction when he sees what is enveloped in the fine pink paper.

He peels the layers of tissue back. They crinkle under his fingers. He folds them, ironing out the creases with his touch as he goes. Pulled back, the papers finally reveal their contents. The petite, pure white dress adorned with pale, rosy, satin ribbons is just as flawless as it was the first time I saw it. A tinge of an ache finds its way into my heart, but it is quickly washed away when Phoebe sighs in her sleep. She is the baby this dress was meant for, we just didn't know it at the time.

"It's the dress I bought." Christian states plainly. His fingertips caress the ribbons.

"I want her to wear it home from the hospital."

"Me too." He tucks the smocked dress back in its wrapping. His eyes are fixed on his task. He handles the dress as if it was made of glass. "I didn't know if we would ever have the chance to…"

I put my finger to my lips, signaling him to stop speaking. "Our chance is right here, Daddy."

"She is." He moves the tissue holding the dress Phoebe will wear home to sit atop my hospital bag, and joins us in the bed. Any sad memories he was playing in his mind appear to have vanished. Our loss happened and it was painful, but now we have gained so much with the birth of our Phoebe. There is no room for pain, only joy.

"You should sleep."

"After you fall asleep I will put her in her bassinette, and I promise I will sleep then. Just let me watch you two sleep for a while longer." He lies back down with us, and the three of us are the same position as we were before all of our visitors came. "Taylor will bring our dinner in a few hours. Sleep until he gets here." Christian kisses my lips tenderly. "I know you're tired."

"All I am is tired."

"You had a baby, Ana."

" _We_ had a baby." I correct him. He may not have been as involved in the act of bringing our daughter into the world as I was, but he was as active of a participant as he could be. Once again, I settle my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. Falling asleep I let myself fantasize about what delicious things I am sure Taylor will be bringing us for dinner. It will trump anything the hospital could cook up and serve.


	8. Chapter 8

A shorter transition chapter. Heading home, now the real fun begins :) I hope you all enjoy it.

Evening, night, and morning pass by in a tranquil motion of first moments. Phoebe's first sponge bath takes place under the watchful eye and careful hands of her father. She meets her aunt Kate for the first time. Elliot had to go home to switch out Ava duty in order for Kate to come up to the hospital. My once upon a time _easy going best friend_ is now my, _you_ _can't be too careful sister-in-law_. I never would have pegged Kate as a worrying mother, but it has happened. The minute Ava Grace was born it was like a switch flipped. Kate would have baby proofed the entire world if she could have, or she would have chosen to raise her daughter in a bubble.

Her first time meeting her other two grandparents, my mom and Ray, comes and goes. Both introductions are sweet memories to hold. Ray and Lynn are staying in Seattle for a few days and Mom is too. My mother is her usual doting self. She declares that she has cleared her entire schedule for two weeks and plans to stay and help me. It does not go unnoticed by me that she is by herself. I can't help but wonder what she had to clear her schedule of. She doesn't mention her relationship status. This has become the norm lately. It has also become the norm for me not to ask about it. I stick with what is customary and keep my mouth shut. Besides, I have far better things to focus on. One being my sweet smelling baby girl dressed in pink, the other two being my little boy and husband. Teddy is eager for us to come home, and my husband is currently fretting with Phoebe's car seat straps.

Patiently, with our daughter in my arms, I watch from my place on the bed. I have been dressed and packed to leave for half an hour now. Phoebe has been in and out of her car seat three times. Each time Christian makes me take her out. "The straps are not adjusted properly. Take her out, let me loosen them and we'll try again."

There has never been anything wrong with the adjustment of them, he's making an issue where there isn't one, but I leave him be. He will not be rushed, even though he's not changing anything with each new adjustment. He's only putting them back the way they were. He has buckled Ted into his seat a million times and has done it right each and every time. Like me, Phoebe is tolerant of her father's preciseness. She sleeps through the entire ordeal. Never grumbling when she is lifted for another adjustment to take place. If Christian was not within earshot I would tell her how she will have to live with his controlling issues every day of her life. I would also tell her that she will love him for them even when she doesn't think she will, and she will be grateful for them even when she thinks she isn't. His heart is never anywhere but in the right place. He only wants her to be safe, and he will not allow us to leave this hospital until he is one hundred percent certain of perfection.

"Ready," he announces and turns to me. He lifts Phoebe from my arms. She sleeps through Christian playing marionette with her arms. He tucks her in just so and fastens the clasp at her chest and between her legs. From my vantage point I watch the special care he gives not to cause her any discomfort. He runs the pink ribbons on her dress through his fingers. "Perfect." He says the word to me, but is watching her when he says it.

I stand and am met in a hurry by him. "No, let me help you."

"I can walk, Christian."

"Not without my help." He holds my arm and braces an arm around my back. "Can you stand while I lift her seat from your chair?" Phoebe is oblivious, sleeping soundly with her carrier in the wheelchair meant for me.

"Christian, I've walked up and down the hallway a dozen times. I can stand." Giving me a sideways glance he releases me long enough to lift the carrier, then he holds my hand until I am seated and puts it in my lap. Now I am carrying our precious cargo.

The nurse appears at the door with a cart to carry all of my balloons and flowers on. "All set to go home?"

I let out a sigh. "More than I could possibly say."

She smiles a friendly smile. "I think all of our mommies feel that way when it's time to take their babies home. You two lead the way and I will follow." She loads the vases and bunches of pink and silver balloons held down with ribbons and shiny weights onto the rolling table.

I feel like the head float at a parade as I am pushed down the hall. Grace is at the nurse's station, another patient of hers was born last night. "There's my favorite patient."

"You can't pick a favorite," a nurse I don't know remarks to her.

"Sure I can, I have two of them, because they are my grandchildren."

Christian stops my chair and Grace touches Phoebe's hand. "Are you sure you don't want Ted to stay with us another night?" She asks, her fingers intertwine with Phoebe's small ones.

She took him to Gail before coming to work today. I'm grateful for her help, but I'm ready to find our new sense of normal as a family of four. I shake my head, 'no' and look down at my sleeping daughter. "My mom is home with him. Thank you, though."

"You don't have to explain a thing. Just know we are here if you need us. I'll call and check in on little Miss Princess later." She kisses the top of my head and touches Christian's hand. "Call me if you need me."

Taylor, like always, is out front waiting for us. Christian helps me into the car and secures Phoebe's seat, while Taylor finds a place in the SUV for all of my gifts. By the time everything is loaded we are in a blush colored florist van, or at least that's what it feels like.

"Home, Mommy?"

"Home, Daddy." I answer Christian. He closes his door and Taylor pulls out of the U shaped drive in front of the hospital. Home. Elliot's crew must be finished with their work. Christian never mentioned going back to Escala, and I know Ted was taken to the big house by Grace this morning.

It feels strange and euphoric. Ted's car seat has been replaced by a new infant seat. This brings to mind a question. I look around me at the seats and begin to place where we would all sit, in my mind, when Taylor is driving. There are seven seats. Two up front, three in the middle and two in the back. I don't want Ted to be moved away from us because Phoebe is here. I look over my shoulder. The backseats are not far away. I'm being silly.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Christian reaches over the cars seat and touches my jawline.

I turn my face. "I was mapping out where we would sit in the car as a family of four."

"There's plenty of room." He looks around the inside of the vehicle. "There are seven seats."

"I know that, but Ted will have to be away from us if Taylor is driving."

"He is away from us when I'm driving, or when you're driving, because we sit up front."

Yes, that's true. What he is saying is truthful. "I don't want to force him to move away from us."

"What are you saying, Ana? Don't you think the vehicle is big enough? Do you want to look at buying something else?"

"Yes…no… I don't know. I'm thinking out loud, Christian. I do not want him to feel pushed out of his place in the middle. He always sits between you and me." His fingers are still moving gently on my cheek.

"I don't think it's anything we have to remedy today." His voice comes to me calm and soothing. He's right. He's had his moment this morning of overreacting as a new parent again. His moment was worrying over Phoebe's car seat straps. Apparently my moment is this. We've never been parents to two children. We're both new at this.

I take his hand in mine and kiss the pads of his fingers. "You're right. It's not." Phoebe yawns and stretches her neck. A barely audible mewl passes through her lips. "Do you think Teddy will love her as much when she is at home as he did when she was in the hospital?" Kate's story about how Ethan was not thrilled when their parents brought her home from the hospital rings in my mind.

"I loved, Mia when my parents brought her home. Why would Ted react any differently?"

Silently I pray that my little Ted will love Phoebe as much as Christian loved Mia. My subconscious, ever the realist, is quick to remind me that one can love someone and still have tinges of jealousy. "I hope you're right."

"Of course I am, I'm seldom wrong." A smile plays on my lips. "Is there something you'd like to say, Mrs. Grey?"

"Not at all." Hmmmm…I hope Christian is right where this matter is concerned. I will remain hopeful, but I know Theodore Raymond Grey. Like his father he is not a fan of sharing. I have mentally expressed this same sentiment to myself repeatedly lately. Before I know it we are on I-5 going north. My little Teddy bear is waiting for us. I only hope he is not thrown off by the fact that there are three of us coming home instead of two.


	9. Chapter 9

Enjoy :)

 **PITTER PATTER, PITTER PATTER,** the echoing pulse of Teddy's feet beats through the house. He is barefoot and running with all of his might. I cannot see him yet, but the sound and speed of his footfalls are a giveaway. Home. When I left a few days ago I thought it would be weeks before we returned with Phoebe, but it has only been a matter of days. Miss Phoebe Gray had a different agenda from the rest of us. Two days ago, in the early morning hours of July 22nd she let me know just how different her plans were from mine. I have a feeling this was her way of setting her tone for life.

Christian leaves the door open behind us. Taylor is retrieving my bag and the multitude of well wish gifts from the trunk of the SUV still. He passes by us on his first of many trips into the house. His arms full of pink flowers and balloons. He blows one of the balloons out of his face and a streamer sticks to his lips.

He splutters around it, "Where would you like your gifts, Mrs. Grey?"

"Would it be too much trouble to carry them up to the nursery?" I cringe, I hate asking him to take them all upstairs. The girls from work and Ros and Andrea really outdid themselves. It's hard to believe that most of Phoebe's endowments came from those few women. Thank you cards, I must write thank you cards.

"It is no trouble at all." His smile is kind and convincing. I know it is trouble, but Taylor would never let on for a minute that it is.

"Mommy! Daddy! Mommy! Daddy!" Ted's joyous calls for us fill the house. From the great room, with Gail on his heels, he is bursts into the foyer.

"Hey there, baby boy." He stops short of me. His stare is locked on the carrier in Christian's grasp. Phoebe, covered in a pale pink blanket, is sound asleep. I hope she can get used to sleeping through the noise that is Teddy Grey, because he makes plenty of noise. He doesn't move, he doesn't talk, and his eyes do not stray. He just stares. "I missed you so much." I hold my arms out to him and he steps slowly into my embrace, locking his little arms arm my legs. His fingers cling to the navy fabric of my loose sundress. I rub circles on his back.

His face is turned to the side, still staring the carrier. "Baby siter?" He steps back and looks up at me, still holding tight to my dress.

I look over to Christian and nod my head. I'm unsure of exactly what I'm asking him to do, but as usual he reads my mind even when I am not clear of what I am trying to say. He sets the carrier with Phoebe in it on the foyer table and unbuckles her straps. He lifts her out and cradles her securely in his arms. "Mommy and Daddy brought Phoebe home." He tells Ted, and gracefully he comes down on one knee beside him.

Ted leans a little further away from me and peers at his sister. "Siter, home," he says and it is not a question. It is a statement of observation. A precise and clear statement. He is not a hypothetical thinker. His thoughts are factual and so are his words.

"Yes, your sister is home. Do you want to hold her hand?" Christian demonstrates how our baby girl will hold her brother's hand by offering a finger to her. In her sleep she opens and closes her hand around it. Teddy held her hand when he visited us in the hospital. He did it both of the times he came with Grace. I cross my own fingers and silently hope he will do the same now that she is home.

Releasing one of his hands from my dress he touches the back of one of Phoebe's hands. She curls her fingers and uncurls them. He watches her with wide gray eyes. "Hold, tucks," he says suddenly and abandons us in the foyer. Christian and I exchange a curious glance. Ted returns with two of his toy trucks. "Me hold tucks." He puts his trucks down on the hardwood floor and begins driving them around our feet, before taking them on a longer trip down the hall and into the family room.

Christian watches Ted's retreating form. "I loved Mia right away."

He's worrying, I tuck away my own concerns. "You were older than two, Christian. He loves her. Give him time."

Taylor comes in the door with the last of the baby gifts and Gail closes the door behind him. I had forgotten they were even around us. "Your mother should be arriving soon, Mrs. Grey."

For the first time I notice that she is not here yet. "She didn't come with you and Ted?" Grace dropped Ted to my mom and Gail this morning before coming to the hospital.

"No, she said she had a few things to take care and would be along this afternoon."

"Okay," I say bewildered. I thought she would come with Ted. I shake it off. There is no telling what she had to take care of.

"You're father and Lynn will be along as well."

"Thank you, Gail, I got his message." Ray texted me this morning that he and Lynn were going sightseeing for the afternoon and would come for a visit later. They both adamantly refused my insistences that they stay with us. _"You need time with your family, Annie,"_ Ray insisted when he came to the hospital. _"Lynn and I have a place to stay. Don't try to talk me out of it again. We will come to visit and then leave to give you space."_ I kissed his scruffy cheek and promised not to say another word about it.

Our sleeping princess stirs in her daddy's arms. A cry I am beginning to recognize as her hungry cry fills the foyer. Her vocal cues have been easy to identify thus far. They are very similar to the sounds her brother made when he was first born. I slip my feet out of my black ballet flats and take her as Christian passes her to me. "I'll feed her in the family room. That way we can be with Ted."

"Do you need anything, Mrs. Grey? I was about to make lunch for Ted."

I open my mouth to tell Gail I would like some lunch too, but am interrupted. "Please make a tray for Mrs. Grey as well, Gail. She'll need a bottle of water too."

Gail and I exchange an expressive glance. "Yes, sir. Is there anything in particular you would like for lunch?" She directs her question to me.

"Whatever you are making for Ted will be fine." Phoebe's cry grows in volume. Funny how she's still quieter than Teddy ever was.

In the family room I feel like I have been transported into a completely different house. The furniture has been moved. The layout of the room is entirely different than it was when I left on Monday. How did this happen between then and today? We haven't been home. All of the furniture sits near or faces the expansive windows. The room is much brighter, and it takes me a moment to realize why. The heavy drapes are gone. In their place are sheer white curtains. They dip and sway over the tops of the windows, framing the portrait that is our backyard and the sound. Teddy has one of the couches covered in toy trucks. He notices our entrance, but continues to play. I don't miss the way his brow crinkles when Phoebe fusses. It is a minute detail, but one not to be missed.

"Who did all of this?"

"Taylor and Sawyer did the heavy lifting. handled the small touches."

"It's so much brighter. Why did they do it?"

"Because I asked them to." I raise an eyebrow. _Of course you asked them to, Christian. Why?_ "Come, sit here." He motions to one of the chairs. It is angled by the window, the afternoon sun streams across it. The other chair in the room is directly across from it. It sits at an angle too. "The chairs have been arranged so that this one catches the afternoon light," he points to the one I am meant to sit in, "and this one catches the morning light. I thought you would spend a good deal of time down her with Ted and wanted to have this room set up for you and Phoebe."

"The way it was set up was fine."

"No it wasn't. The way it was, most of the furniture did not take advantage of the natural light. Mom said we should be sure that Phoebe gets enough natural sunlight." Ah, and now it all makes sense. Grace mentioned the possibility of jaundice due to Phoebe's early arrival.

With care, I the seat meant for Phoebe and me in the afternoon hours and unzip the top of my dress. My body is still tired and sore. Every day a little less so. With the warm afternoon sun bathing us both she latches on and begins to nurse. "That's my girl." I touch her cheek with the back of my knuckle. The familiar feeling of warmth and serenity washes over me. Four days ago I was dreaming of this moment becoming a reality, and now it's here. Our family of four is home together.

Gail brings in a tray with three plates on it. They are all filled with fresh fruit, rolled deli meats and cheeses. She sets it down on the coffee table, and leaves again, bringing back a large bottle of water.

Teddy leaves his trucks. "Nack!" He picks up a slice of apple and munches on it. "Nack, Mommy?" He holds out his half eaten apple slice in offer.

"Mrs. Taylor made me a plate too, see? There are three plates." I point to the tray. "One for you, one for me, and one for Daddy."

"Siter nack?"

"Phoebe is drinking her milk for her snack." I offer an explanation as to why Phoebe is not quite ready to eat a slice of apple.

Continuing to munch on his apple, Ted comes closer to my chair. Christian removes two of the plates from the tray and brings it, with the other plate and bottle of water, over to me. Teddy's eyes miss nothing. He climbs up on the ottoman and sits with his bare feet dangling. He watches Phoebe silently while eating his apple. Christian lifts him up and sits down, moving Ted to his lap. They are both watching us. One with more curiosity than the other. There will be plenty of questions to come. I can tell by the perceptive countenance upon my son's face. For now he is watching attentively. No doubt he is formulating those questions in his mind.

"Water, Mommy?" Christian offers me the bottle.

"Thank you," I drink thirstily and hand it back to him. My stomach rumbles. "And food, please." He hands me a piece of turkey wrapped in Swiss cheese. He smiles as he does it, always pleased to watch me eat.

"Me too," Teddy takes one of the meat and cheese rolls from my plate. He's forgotten about his plate. Either that or he's not interested in leaving his place on his daddy's lap. Phoebe is completely unaware of her audience. For now, all she's interested in is nursing. Looking around the sunlit room I marvel at how quickly that will change. Someday, not long from now, they will both have this room littered with their toys, and two pairs of bare feet will pitter patter through the house at top speed.


	10. Chapter 10

***Here is a new chapter for you all. My twin sis asked me recently what my plans were for a conflict in this story. Honestly, I don't have a large conflict in mind. I am nearly a quarter into this story and my plan is to write about their family adjusting to becoming a family of four. Teddy is two now and just became a big brother. I would like to explore what that means for him and for all of them. I have always thought it would be interesting to touch base on how Ana and Christian choose to discipline their children, especially considering Christian's childhood. If any of you have any thoughts on how you would see that going, as usual I'm all ears. I love getting input from my readers. ****

Overwhelmed and thankful for his thoughtfulness, this is the only way to describe the emotions running through me. He never misses a detail. I am always at the forefront of his mind. Standing by myself in our bathroom I touch the pink satin ribbon gift ribbon. On the vanity is a basket, and it is filled with all of the necessities a new mother would need or want. Among bottles and boxes are five new bras. Three of them are simple cotton nursing bras colored in white, black, and gray. The other two are sexy. The cups are made of sheer black lace, it is the softest lace I have every touched. They are lined in black and gold satin and there is a small gold bow, which will rest between my breasts. I touch the small tags attached to them and read aloud to myself, "Panache Sophie Nursing Bra." Even the name sounds sexy. Only Christian Grey would find sensual nursing bras. At a time when I do not feel the least bit sexy, he does something like this to remind me of how desirable I am to him. I love him.

I remove the bras and place them on the counter. I am in the midst of removing one of the boxes, organic washable nursing pads, when Christian places his hand over mine. "I was wondering where you slipped off to." He takes my hand and I let go of the box. He pulls me to face him and into his arms. "I wanted to give this to you."

I've spoiled his gift by finding it. "I'm sorry, I had to use the bathroom. I just found the gift."

"Do you like it?"

"I've only found the bras and I like them very much."

He smiles a slow, sweet, sly smile. "Me too." Of course he likes them. In my _new mother for a second_ _time_ haze of enervation my inner goddess peeps around the corner. There were more than a few perks experienced during my time of breastfeeding Ted. Private perquisites shared only between Christian and me.

"What else did you get me?" All of the gifts received at the hospital were for Phoebe. She was the star of the show and is now the second star shining high in our sky, but finding this personal gift from Christian, just for me, is special. The bras are for his enjoyment obviously. However, his pleasure always ultimately turns into my pleasure too.

Christian graces my lips with a brush of his and turns me back to the vanity. "Continue opening your gift and you'll see." He prompts me. Still standing in his arms I begin unpacking it.

There is a full set of body butter, body and hand lotion, liquid soap, shampoo, and a body bar. Oliveraie European soaps, made with olive oil. I open the body butter and inhale the light floral scent. I want to rub this all over my body, or allow him to. "I love the scent, it's wonderful." There is a decadently soft sponge in the basket too.

He nuzzles my neck. "I thought it would smell delicious on your skin." Next I take out two boxes of lanolin. These will come in handy. There is a larger box, it is colored orange with white flowers on it. "Postpartum bath herbs," he says and I turn the box over to read it. These seem much nicer than what Dr. Greene was suggesting. Suddenly I hope that either Christian brought these on his own or ordered them. I shudder to think of Taylor buying bath herbs for my lady bits. Dear heaven and all that is holy, please tell me he did not send Taylor out for these things.

"Where did you…"

"I have my secrets, Mrs. Grey."

"Please tell me that Taylor is not a part of your secret."

He chuckles deep in his throat. "No, Ana. I did not send Taylor out for any of these private items."

"Good," I breathe out a sigh of relief. I don't think I would have been able to look the man in the eye again if he had bought nursing pads or things for me to soak my bottom in.

"Would you like me to run a bath for you?"

"That sounds…" I sigh, "Yes, please."

The sound of running water fills the bathroom. Christian tends to the bath until he is satisfied with it. He tests the temperature of the shallow bath water with his fingers. "Do you need help?"

The tile beneath my feet is warm. I haven't moved from my spot in front of the vanity. I find myself experiencing the same feelings of shyness as I did after Ted was born. It's different and it's absolutely absurd. Still, they are there and I cannot shake them. I need a private moment. "No, I'm good. I'd like to take a shower then soak in the bath." I want to be clean and right now I do not feel incredibly clean. A shower in the hospital never leaves you feeling as clean as a shower in your own home does.

He turns the taps off and comes over to me. "I'm going to do some work. I have emails to catch up on. I'll work in the bedroom, call me if you need me."

"Okay," I smile a small smile and he kisses me.

With the bathroom empty and the door closed I strip off my dress and underthings and tend to my personal needs. Taking the soaps and sponge from the basket, I step into the shower. The first streams of warm water to rain down on my naked body are heavenly. I prolong the process of showering. Cleansing every inch of my skin and every lock of my hair with the soaps and shampoo bought only for me by my husband. The moisture rich foam washes down my legs and over the tops of my feet where they pool, before seeping down the drain.

The shallow herbal bath enhances my comfort. After soaking I pat my delicate skin dry with a towel and rub it over the rest of my body to remove any leftover water. I run a brush through my hair and pull it back in a wet ponytail. A comfy nursing bra, one of my nursing tanks, cotton, not satin or lace panties, and a pair of sweat pants are all calling my name. I dress in all four and emerge from the bathroom.

Christian is sitting on my side of the bed, the side closest to the bassinette where our daughter is sleeping, with his laptop on his lap. He has pulled the bassinette close to him. He peeks over the side. "She's still sound asleep."

"And her brother?" I gingerly climb onto the bed with him. My entire body has a dull ache to it. I'm not sure there is one muscle, joint, or bone in my body that doesn't ache. Dr. Greene assured me of the normalcy of it. She said it should fade away in a few days. I draw my knees up, roll over onto my side, and Christian pulls the blanket from the foot of the bed around me.

"He's sleeping too. The monitor is quiet." I hear his intake of breath. "You smell good."

I nod, feeling my eyelids beginning to close. I love the soaps he gave me. They have left my skin feeling soft and new. I want to tell him this, but my mouth can barely form the words to say what I need to say, much less what I want to say. "Wake me up when he wakes up, will you? If that's before she wakes up to be fed?" His chest is my comfort zone. My state of wakefulness wanes. "Wake me up when my mom gets here?" What is taking her so long? She was coming from Escala. Maybe she had some stops to make along the way. I think she mentioned having lunch with a girlfriend while she was in Seattle. Maybe that is what she's doing.

"I will, I will, and I will." He brushes a wet lock of hair from my forehead. "You didn't dry your hair."

"I don't have the energy." I yawn out the last word.

"Go to sleep, sleepy mommy."

"I will." I echo his words back to him, and I do.

 **"** **MOMMY." AN ANGELIC TODDLER** voice whispers to me. It is followed by the cry of a newborn baby. "Mommy, me up." Another cry and I open my eyes. I have two reasons to open my eyes waiting for me.

"Ana." Christian is calling me too. He sits on the bed with our baby daughter in his arms.

"How long did I sleep?" I rub my eyes and sit up.

"Just a few hours."

"Mommy, me up. Pay, Mommy. Pay." He's bright eyed and bushy tailed. Fresh from his afternoon nap and raring to go.

Phoebe scrunches her eyes and lets out a wail. "She probably needs to be changed."

"I've already changed her."

"She needs to be nursed," I reach for her and Christian stops me.

"She's okay, baby. Take a moment and ready yourself for her. I have her." He's holding her and waiting patiently for me to unfasten my bra and tank. What an irony, I think to myself. This man was so uncertain of how he would be as a father, and then he was uncertain about what kind of father he would be to a girl. Looking at him now, he's a natural. He never had anything to worry about. He's fallen into his role as a father of two children easier than I am falling into my role as a mother of two children.

 _Give yourself time and rest._ My subconscious offers her words of support. _You've just had the baby, you're tired._ I vow to try to follow her advice. Ready for Phoebe, I take her from Christian's arms and coo to her softly. "Mommy's here, sweet girl." I guide her mouth to my nipple. Her rosy pink lips circle it and she suckles quietly.

"Mommy," Ted tugs on the bottom hem of my shirt. He stands on his knees and inches up the bed. "Mommy, pay. Mommy, nack." He holds his hands up in the hair and claps them together.

Christian stands up grabs Ted by the waist, swinging him off the bed. He puts him high up on his shoulders, earning and excited burst of giggles from him. He loves it when Christian tosses him in the air and catches him. I think all little boys must love playing like that with their daddy. "Mommy needs to feed your sister. Let's go find a snack for you and we can play outside."

Guilt hits me like a punch in the stomach. _Remember to be gentle with yourself and give yourself time,_ my subconscious is wagging her finger at me, but I can't help it. My little Teddy bear wants me and I am not going with him. How did I not think that this would happen right away? I have worried on and off about how I will share my time between them, but I did not think the dilemma would rear its head less than a day after our arrival home from the hospital. Teddy has been my one and only, the center of my world for two years now, and all of the sudden he is having to share me.

"I will feed Phoebe and then we will join you outside," I offer, hoping to smooth over the fact that I am not going downstairs with him right away. The doorbell rings downstairs. "That's probably my mom."

"Grammy!"

And just like that his desire for me is gone. Maybe having Mom here will be good for Ted. They can spend special time together once Christian goes back to work. He starts bouncing up and down on Christian's shoulders.

"We'll see you downstairs, Mommy. Take your time." He touches Phoebe's hand and leans to kiss the top of my head.

"Okay." I smile up at him and then back down at my nursing girl. She eats so easily and is always ready right on time. I bet Christian wishes I had been that way about eating when he first met me. I wonder if he's entertained this thought or one similar to it yet. My two boys leave the room. The one on top of the Christian and Teddy pyramid talking all about how he wants gapes, grapes, and beenanas, bananas, for snack.


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you all for your wonderful suggestions! :) I am making note of them and hope you will see them in the upcoming chapters. Thank you again for reading, following, and reviewing. If you didn't see it, I posted a sweet one shot for Ana's birthday. Please please please please, when you review on my stories be kind to all authors. I for one, am so grateful to E.L. James for creating these characters. They have done more for me than I could ever say. In your kindness and compliment to me, please be sure to be kind to her as well. I hope you all understand what I'm saying. I don't like author bashing at all. Be kind, be peaceful, and be gentle with words.

OK...On with the chapter!

 **WILDFLOWERS OF ALL DIFFERENT** colors spatter the meadow. They serve as a reminder of the late summer days, which will soon fade into fall. Buttery shades of lemon yellow and pale lavender mixed with deep royal blues are accented by the sun. The endless sea of flora melts seamlessly into the skyline ahead and disappears at the banks of the sound.

"Daddy, dis one." Teddy is a ray of sunshine in their midst. On the patio I shield my eyes against the sun to see him better. He's holding a white daisy up for Christian to see. Christian takes it from him, adding it to the bouquet he is already holding. "Dis, one." Teddy offers him another flower. This time it is a cadmium colored daisy.

"They're picking them for you." I hear my mother's voice behind me.

"Mom," I go to her and she hugs me around where Phoebe is resting against my chest. After some fussing I was able to secure her in the wrap I once wore Ted in. "I didn't see you there." She has obviously been sitting in one of the chairs in the back corner. There is a book and glass of lemonade sweating on the slate topped table. Condensation from the cold drink has formed a circular puddle around the bottom of the glass.

I pull back from our embrace and she touches Phoebe's face. "How is she? How are you?"

My chest rises as I inhale the sweet scent floating on the breeze. "We're good. She's good. I'm glad to be home."

Teddy's laughter from the meadow breaks the otherwise serene track of nature. "How is Teddy doing with having her home?"

I look over my shoulder at my little boy. He's running now and Christian is chasing him. "He's good, I think. I have no idea what I'm doing." I admit to my mother what has been plaguing my mind all day. How do I do this without putting my Ted second? It has been a source of uncertainty and emotion today, finding the balance between caring for Phoebe and Ted.

"Rome wasn't built in a day, Ana. I admit I know nothing about bringing a sibling into the picture, but I think it will all fall into place. Come, let's sit down."

"I wanted to play with Ted." He and Christian's game is still going, only now the tables have turned and it is Christian who is being chased.

Still mindful of my twinges of discomfort in my back, middle, and other parts I sit down. Thankful for the comfy cushion on the seat of the chair. "You've just had a baby, baby girl. Rest and take care of yourself."

I lean back in the chair and pull the wrap away from Phoebe's face some, giving the sun a chance to kiss her baby skin. "That's what Christian keeps telling me too." _Yes it is,_ my subconscious offers me an aide-mémoire of her earlier expressed thoughts. _Remember to be gentle with yourself and give yourself time. Teddy will need time too. All of the pieces will fall into place._

"Listen to him, Ana. He loves you." The last three words come out in a regretful manner, and I can't help but wonder what is on her mind.

Is she thinking about the first days of my life when my father was still alive? Holding my own baby girl and thinking of how I feel when Christian holds her, I cannot help but feel saddened by what my mother lost. If something every happened to…NO. I put that thought away immediately and focus on my two boys in the meadow. A smile flirts with my lips. I cannot change the past. I can only look at the future. They are my present and my future. Happiness. I look back at my mom. She's watching me watch them. Is she thinking about the tussle her love life is in now? _Oh, Mommy._

"Mom, how are you?" I turn her question back to her. She's been bouncing back and forth between Nevada and France, or at least that is the information I have been privy to. One minute she's with Bob and the next they are on the outs. Everett has yet to be mentioned by her. It's been a few months since I last hear anything definitive about her relationships, which leads me to believe that she doesn't know anything either.

Mom looks down at her hands and tangles her fingers together. "I've started seeing a counselor, Bob has gone with me a few times." Oh? This is news. "We're in Nevada together right now. He has his own apartment and I'm staying at home." Phoebe yawns and blinks her eyes open. "He had to go to L.A. for a few days. He would like to come and see Phoebe after he's done there."

I miss Bob. He's always been kind to me. The way he makes my mother happy, or the way he did for a few years, did not go unnoticed by me. A small part of me hopes that they can get that happiness back as a couple. My mother may sometimes be a misconstrued mess of hair brained ideas, unrealistic romantic notions, and general disorganization, but she means well. "That would be nice. I would love to see him."

"Good," she pats my hand.

Gail brings me a glass of sparkling water with cranberry juice in it. I suspect this has been brought on due to special instructions given by my husband. I sip the cool crispness. It tastes so good and feels good. The late afternoon air is warm, but there is a fresh breeze blowing off the water, which makes it comfortable.

The game of chase in the meadow makes its way to the grassy lawn and finally to the patio. The smallest participant is clutching a vibrant bouquet in his fist. It is a spray of every color in the meadow. "Mommy, fowers," he holds them out to me and I take them.

"Teddy, they are beautiful. I love them." I bring the bunch to my nose and inhale. They smell like summer. They smell like home, and for a brief trice I am transported back to the first time Christian brought me here to see what would become our house. He puts his head in my lap, resting his cheek against the soft fabric of my worn sweat pants. "Mommy, wuv you."

"I love you too, Teddy bear." I run my fingers through his hair and over his flushed cheeks.

When I look up from my baby boy Christian is there. The rays from the sinking sun frame him. "Would you like to go for a short walk?" He holds his hand out to me. Teddy stands upright and puts his hand out to me too, just like his daddy.

"I would love to," I turn back to Mom. "Do you want to come with us?"

"I'll stay here and read my book. You go ahead."

"Do you want me to take her?" Christian reaches for Phoebe's hand and she flexes her grasp around his finger.

"It's okay, I have her, Daddy." Her clear blue eyes focus on him. When Teddy was first born I knew right away that he recognized Christian's voice. He knew who his father was from the moment he was born. Phoebe is the same. My babies know their daddy loves them, because he touched them, talked to them, and sang to them from outside of my belly. How did this man ever doubt his abilities as a father?

I leave my flowers in my seat and take Ted's hand in mine. He gives Christian his other hand. With our little boy between us and our baby girl resting comfortably at my chest in her wrap, Christian and I walk down the lawn toward the water's edge.

 **"** **SHE LOOKS LIKE YOU** did when you were a baby," Mom says with a reflective tone in her voice. We are back inside the house, the setting sun brought a chill into the air. Our earlier conversation and my contemplations come back to me. She rocks Phoebe in her arms, gently jostling her sleeping body up and down. She watches her granddaughter with so much love in her eyes.

I look on from my place on the couch. Teddy crawls from the floor into my lap and settles with one of his trucks in his hands. I kiss the top of his head and breathe in the smell of his baby shampoo. His hair is still damp from his bath. His afternoon of playing outside with Christian left him a dirty mess of a little boy. That and his playtime near the shore. His pockets were loaded down with the tiny pebbles he gathered from the shoreline. A bath was in order before dinner time.

"Siter baby, Mommy." He pats my arm and looks up at me with big gray eyes.

I run my fingers over his cheek. "Your sister is a baby, Ted." He's trying to work everything out in his mind. Our first day at home has been a good one. His desire to play with Christian and his Grammy have kept him busy. The time our little family of four has spent together has been good too. I will find that balance. I am finding it. "I never had blonde hair when I was a baby." I remark back to my mother.

She strokes Phoebe's fair wisps of soft hair. "No you didn't. I don't know where she got that from. Teddy's hair was dark when he was born."

His hair was dark, but now it is the same copper color as Christian's. "I know. I wonder if it will stay blonde." I've always envisioned a little girl with chestnut hair and blue eyes. Maybe my little Phoebe has made plans of her own, different plans than mine. She will be her own person. An individual not to be emulated by anyone else.

"It may and then it may not. Babies hair color and eye color often changes."

Christian comes in the family room. The sleeves of his white linen shirt are rolled up to his elbows, and there are a few damp spots on the front of his shirt. Souvenirs from giving Teddy a bath. "Gail will have dinner ready in half an hour. I have a quick conference call with Ros and the head of operations in Belfast. I won't be long."

"Okay," I run my fingers through Ted's locks. Combing his hair over to one side. Christian pauses before leaving and I see his gaze drift between Phoebe and Ted. I know every thought making its way through his mind at this very moment. They are the same thoughts I have been having all afternoon. He turns and leaves the room to go work and I smile. Sometimes a simple glance says so much.


	12. Chapter 12

New chapter :) It's a bit emotional, but I hope you all like it.

Phoebe's running list of guest lengthens before it shortens. The rest of the week is filled with visitors, and the weekend is too. Bob comes from Las Vegas and it's good to see him. I can see Mom's unease around him. She's made detrimental choices when it comes to their relationship. It will take time before they can mend things back to the way they once were, if things can even go back to the way they once were. That is for her and her husband to figure out, though. They appear to be trying. The determination to salvage their marriage is evident in both of their mannerisms.

Ray and Lynn leave at the end of the weekend when Mom and Bob do. Good byes are tearful. I have enjoyed having my parents here, even if they are both now in separate marriages. They have been a big help to me. Teddy hugs Ray and tells him, "Wuv, Gamps." I choke back more than a couple of tears when they tell each other bye. Their absences won't be long. I keep telling myself that. They will all be back in a few weeks for Labor Day. We will celebrate my birthday then. It seems strangely odd and perfect that I will celebrate my twenty-fifth birthday as a mother of two. Next week Christian and I will celebrate our third wedding anniversary as parents of two children. Each day I find myself begging the clock to slow down. I want to relish every moment I have with my babies.

Throughout the weekend Grace and Carrick stop in. Carrick spends most of his time here with Teddy. Grace is in love with her new granddaughter. I imagine how she must have been with Mia. The mother of two boys finally bringing home a baby girl. She must have spoiled her with all things sparkly, pink, and sweet. I am almost sure of it. Just one look at the woman Mia has grown up to be tells me that I am correct. Her passion for shopping is enough of a glimpse into how much Grace loved having a baby girl to spoil.

Kate, Elliot and Ava come Sunday evening for what is supposed to be a quiet dinner, just us and them. It turns into more than that when Mia and Ethan decide to stop by as well. Gail, swearing it isn't a problem at all, sets two more places for them. In spite of my best efforts to convince her to take a break, she refuses to take any time off of work. "You need me right now, Mrs. Grey. You have two babies. I'm here to help you." I think she repeats the same three phrases to me constantly. I should stop asking her to take a break and just accept the fact that she is not leaving Christian and me without her help.

After dinner we all settle in the family room. It's cozy and intimate compared to the space in the great room. Teddy has Ethan, Elliot, and Christian immersed in his game of play. They each have a truck are taking his directions on where to drive them.

"Daddy, dive here." He points to the coffee table.

"Lellot, dive here." He points to the hardwood floor just past the rug in the center of the room.

"Effan, dive here." He points lastly to the sofa, which seats three.

All three men, like good little soldiers to my mini commander, drive their toy trucks where they have been instructed to. In my mind I wonder how things will go in a year or so when Teddy tries to tell his little sister how to play. I have a feeling she will have her own ideas on what she wishes to do. That may not sit well with Theodore Raymond Grey.

From her place on her mat on the floor, Ava is supporting her body with her hands. She is working hard to lift herself up, so that she can see the four boys playing in front of her. She gurgles and coos at them. Elliot, crawling on his knees, drives his red truck near her and blows a kiss on the tip of her nose. She giggles and drool slips past her lips and onto her chin. Without batting an eye, Elliot takes the bottom of his gray t shirt and wipes her chin clean. Blue eyes and short, fine, baby strawberry curls, she smiles a gummy smile at him and he kisses her nose again. Oh, Elliot…you say that Christian is wrapped around Phoebe's finger. You are in the same place only on your daughter's hand.

Mia is cradling Phoebe in her arms. She has been holding her all evening. The only time she has given her up was when she needed to nurse. She has always wanted to spend time with her nephew, and now her two nieces, but her special dedication tonight to Phoebe has not gone unnoticed by me. She whispers something to her, and I swear I see her swipe a tear off of her cheek. It is then that I notice Ethan has stopped driving his truck. He is sitting on the floor in front of the sofa watching his wife.

"Je vais vous manquer ma petite princesse." Mia whispers to Phoebe again. This time I hear her words, but do not understand them. She is speaking to her in French.

She looks up and Ethan catches her eye. He imperceptibly shakes his head, telling her ' _no'_ about something. I see her front at him. When I look at Christian it is evident that he is regarding what is occurring between his sister and her husband. His face is as white as a sheet. He is motionless. Did he hear what Mia said to Phoebe, and what did she say? He must have heard her, and if he did I am almost certain that he understood her.

"Qu'aves-vous dit?" His voice unnervingly quiet.

Now Mia is glancing between her brother and her husband with a nervous expression on her face. "Rien." She answers her brother, and I wish I had taken French in high school. Sure, I probably wouldn't be able to full on translate everything they are saying to one another, but I might have some kind of foggy idea.

"Pourquoi auriez-vous rater son?"

Mia looks back down at Phoebe. "Here, Ana." She says and passes her back to me. Mia folds her hands in her lap, and under the pressing stare of Christian, she begins to talk. "A month ago one of my culinary instructors in Paris emailed me about a head pastry chef position in Nice. I applied for the fun of it. I didn't think I would ever be hired, not in a million years did I think it was possible. Le Petit is a world renowned restaurant. Why would they hire me?" She swallows and looks around the room. I notice how her eyes linger on first Ted, then Ava, and finally Phoebe. "But they did, or at least they offered me the position. We weren't willing to take it seriously if Ethan couldn't find a job too, but he did, right away. He's been hired at the University there."

Kate stiffens beside me. "Have you told Mom and Dad?" She asks Ethan and he shakes his head again.

"We wanted to tell you all first."

"Is that why you two were so bent on coming for dinner tonight?"

"We knew neither one of us would have parents here. We wanted to talk with you all first. Our brothers," he looks at Elliot who is watching him, and Christian who is not, "and our sisters." Now he looks to me and Kate. "It's a wonderful opportunity for Mia. She wanted to turn it down, but I…"

Christian, who I have been watching the entire time, lifts his gaze from the floor. "Talked her out of it." He finishes Ethan's sentence, spitting the words out acidly. His tone causes Ted to stop playing. His forehead crinkles as he takes in what is happening, and the drop in everyone's moods.

Ethan sits up straight, priming his posture to stand up to his brother-in-law. "Yes, I did. It is her dream job."

"Your dream is to abandon your family?" Christian ignores Ethan and swings his line of questioning to his sister. Mia is unravelling. I've never seen her this lost for words before. She is so self-assured, strong, and vivacious. _Mia…Christian…_ She is hurting her brother by taking this wonderful step in her life. This news is like a knife in Christian's heart. His baby sister whom he has loved from the moment he met her is moving an ocean away from him, and his new baby daughter just came into the world. He is struggling to hold it together in front of everyone, in front of his son who is watching his every move and listening to his every word. My arms tremble. I breathe in and out slowly, trying to calm myself. Phoebe grunts in my arms and I rock her gently.

Two tears roll down Mia's cheeks. The look in Ethan's eyes is fiercely protective. He starts to speak, but Mia interrupts him. "That's not fair, Christian and you know it." She accuses her brother, and she's right, but that is not going to stop him from feeling how he is at this moment.

"So, Mom and Dad have no idea?" He questions his sister and she shakes her head. He wants to curse, yell, and scream at the top of his lungs. Instead he throws his hands in the air and stands, walking out of the room. He heads down the hall in the direction of his study.

Mia stands too and walks behind the loveseat. Facing the window she looks out over the backyard. "That went about as well as I expected it to." She wraps her arms around herself.

I'm watching her when the sound of quick and insistent little footsteps catches my attention. I look back just in time to see Ted dart out of the family room. I make to stand and Elliot stands first. "Stay there, Ana. Take care of her." He nods at Phoebe who is beginning to fuss. "I'll go check on them both." Fun loving and joking Elliot is gone, replaced by someone more grownup. A brother, an uncle, and a father.

"Thank you," I tell him and he smiles.

"Don't worry," he leaves his toy truck and goes after my two boys. He will catch up with Ted who is probably going to find Christian. Maybe between the two of them they can calm him. My instincts tell me to follow my husband, but my head tells me to let his brother speak with him first.

The sheer curtain draping down the side of the window crumples in Mia's grasp. "I'm so sorry, Ana…Kate. I didn't mean for any of this to happen." She turns back to face us.

Phoebe continues her fussing and I know I need to feed her. Holding her in one arm I quickly unfasten and arrange my shirt and bra. I cover us both with a small blanket and she latches on.

Ethan gets up from the floor, but Kate beats him to Mia. She is off her feet and going to our sister-in-law…our sister. "We're going to miss you both. We are going to miss you like crazy, but this is good news, Mia." Mia searches her eyes and wipes her cheek with the back of her hand. "My brother is right, it is your dream job." Kate smiles back at Ethan, and I see love between a brother and sister. They will miss each other.

"I'm so excited about it." She half laughs and chokes back a sob. "But I'm also scared and anxious. I'm sad because I'm leaving my family. I'm thrilled because your brother is so supportive of me. He's been perfect."

Ethan mouths, "I love you," to his wife and I see Mia mouth, "I know," back to him.

"It runs in the family." Kate winks at her in her signature _glass is half full Kate_ style. The two of them share a laugh together and I smile. I am going to miss Mia like crazy. Her bubbly personality has been dazzling, and sometimes endearingly annoying, light in my life.

"We will come visit you." I pipe up from my seat and they come back over to me. Ethan sits on the sofa where he was previously driving his truck. "Christian just needs time." I say to no one in particular. I think it needs to be said, even though I know they are all aware of it.

"I knew he would take it the hardest."

"He loves you, Mia. You're his little sister, but he will come around."

"I hope sooner rather than later."

I don't have to say anything else. Mia knows just as well as I do that he will come around in his own time. There is no forcing Christian in matters like this. He has had the rug pulled out from underneath him. He did not expect this, it is a change and it is out of his control. I have faith in him, though. He will come around and he will be happy for his sister when he does. His pride in her accomplishments will win over what he is currently feeling.


	13. Chapter 13

It has been exactly one week since I last posted. What many of you don't know is that I had most of my last chapter written last Saturday when I received a tragic phone call. My teenage son was visiting his great grandmother when his great uncle committed suicide. He did not see it happen, he was there though and heard it. My week has been spent caring for him, writing when I can, and taking care of other aspects of my life. Thank you to all who have given me well wishes and to everyone who has been patient. I want you all to know that I was not ignoring you, nor I had a forgotten you. Life just turned into something I never expected it to be. We are all doing well, now. We've taken this week one day at a time. I hope you all enjoy this new chapter. Love and blessings to every one of my readers. You are all always in my thoughts.

Enjoy!

 **Christian's POV**

I feel like a huge ass. Storming out on my sister and family was uncalled for and rash. I press my fingers to my temples. Swallow your pride, Grey and go back in there. They will understand. Yes, they always do. Even Kate understands. Her stare has softened over the years. I smile in spite of myself. Her view of me softened around the time Ted was born. Stopped inside my study door, I lift my head and stare at the wall behind my desk. The large portraits of Ana and Ted. I'll add to them soon. The door is standing open and I hear fast and tiny footfalls coming at breakneck speed. He calls out to me and I turn to catch him.

There is something about the touch of his soft hand against the scruff of my five o'clock shadow on my cheek. It is rectifying. Completely unaware of what he is doing, he rights all that is off kilter in my world.

"Daddy, tay?"

Elliot comes into view down the hall. I see him but focus on my son. "I'm okay, son." He can read people. A talent he was blessed with via his mother. It is certainly not one I possess. I spent most of my time when I first met her trying to decode the mystery of her. Meanwhile she saw through me and left me exposed to her eyes. He has that ability too. Nothing can be hidden from him.

"Daddy, sad."

Yes, right through me. Elliot puts his hand on Ted's back, but he looks straight into my eyes. "Daddy is going to miss his sister. I'm going to miss her too." Fucking Lelliot. He has grown up. He has grown past his former man whore and flippant ways.

"Siter nack. Mommy milk." I have to chuckle. He thinks Elliot is talking about Phoebe.

"Your sister is having a snack. Daddy's sister is Auntie Mia." I clarify the family relationships for him, or at least I try to.

He tilts his head and appears thoughtful. "Daddy, tiss Mia."

I hear a whisper behind Ted, which belongs to my brother. "And be proud of her. Be happy for her."

I am happy for her. This is her dream. It is everything she has worked for. All of her dreams are being realized and are becoming her reality. I acted like an ass. I get it. I was a huge one. I stormed out and left her feeling terrible about herself. Eating humble pie has never been my forte. I don't think it ever will be, but I have to choke down one slice for Mia's sake. She was the first ray of pure light in my life. She smelled so good when I would hold her, except for when she didn't. Even then she was perfect to me. I never wanted to leave her side, and I only did when I had to. She is a grown woman. She has been for some time. She has been to Paris and back. Why is it so different now? _Because it is permanent._ She is moving her life an ocean away, and this life will not take place near me. I never considered my brother or my sister moving less than a drive away. She has always been within arm's reach. Within my reach to protect her.

Elliot is watching me and waiting for me to confirm how I should feel, how I do feel. It is too goddamn hard for me to articulate, though. At least right now. Give me fucking time, Lelliot. "I am both things." I settle on four short words.

"Then tell her." Jesus he's relentless. Was he always this way with me? No. Nine times out of ten it is the other way around. I'm usually the little brother acting like the older brother. For once he's the older brother actually acting like the older brother.

I give him what I hope is a dismissive stare over Ted's shoulder. Ted kisses my chest and leans his head against it. He's tired. His warm little body melts against mine. "I will."

 **Ana's POV**

 **CHRISTIAN IMMERSES HIMSELF IN** Teddy. His goodbye's when everyone leaves are kind but distant. Mia and I share an embrace and whispered words of, "Be patient with him," and "I know, I will," between the two of us. When she hugs her brother he hugs her back. I cannot help but notice how tightly he holds her or for how long. He kisses her on her cheek when he releases her. He's going to come around sooner instead of later, and will it happen when it is they are alone. Christian is not one to publicize his emotions.

"I'm going to bathe Ted." He picks our yawning little man up after the door closes behind our guests.

"I'll follow you and sponge her off too."

 **BATH TIME FOR TEDDY** is the usual fiasco of loud toys and splashing trucks. No matter how tired he is being in the bath always perks him up. "Daddy, tuck spwash!" He drives a truck off the edge of the bathtub and straight into the water.

Christian's previously dry shirt is splotched with water. There are bubbles on his arms and one tiny one on top of his head, sitting precariously among his curls. He has no idea. He shields Ted's face with one hand while rinsing the soap from his hair with the other. He fills a plastic cup with clean water from the tap and pours it over Teddy's head until all of the suds are gone. Ted spits and splutters the water away from his lips, giggles and continues to play.

While they are engaged in their games I carefully wash Phoebe with her soft bath sponge. She is not keen on being set in the bathtub, even though there is no water in it, so my shirt is much like Christian's, wet. I hold her in my arms and soak the sponge in warm water, squeeze the excess water out, and run it over her. First I wash her arms, then her legs, her back, and after some finagling I am able to cradle her so I can clean her belly. As long as she is in my arms she is content. I coo and talk softly to her. Telling her everything I do as I am doing it. I think I earn a small attempt of a smile from her.

"Are you smiling at, Mommy?" I ask her and she waves an arm in the air.

Christian lifts Ted from the tub and wraps him in a towel. "Did she smile at you?" He's beaming when he asks.

"I think she tried to." I run the sponge over her hair. She blinks her eyes and her lips stretch into the tiniest semblance of a smile.

"Siter, happy!" Teddy observes from his place on Christian's hip.

"I think she is too, Teddy." I tell him and cannot help grinning at both of my babies. This moment feels so natural. Just a week ago our Phoebe was still in my belly and now she's here. Christian and I are managing bath time for our two children together.

Teddy picks his bedtime story book out from the large selection on his bookshelf and carries it over to Christian. He plops down in his lap waiting for his bedtime story to begin. He has insisted that Phoebe hear the bedtime story too. She kicks and wriggles around on her mat, which I have placed on the floor in Ted's room. Gingerly I sit down beside her mat. I am quite pleased with how easily I am able to get down on the floor.

"Daddy, read." Christian looks down at our son and raises an eyebrow at him. "Pwease," Ted adds the word quickly. He has always been an insistent little man, but the age of two has highlighted that quality of his personality even more.

Through the lyrical repetition of brown bears, yellow ducks, blue horses, and purple cats, Teddy listens to his father's deep voice. Even Phoebe turns her head this way and that. I think she's listening to the story. I pull draw my knees up, with my feet flat on the floor, as close as I can get them. My belly is still a squishy mess. I could complain about it, but I don't care. My Phoebe is here and that's all that matters. That and this moment.

Christian repeats the story in three encore performances. Each time our little boy's eyes close a little bit more, until he is barely holding onto a semi wakeful state. Christian closes the book and lifts him up. He crawls to me on his knees and I kiss Ted's forehead. His eyes close completely. "Sleep well my little Teddy bear," I whisper to him.

The same words are whispered from Christian, before he places him in his crib. Idly I think that he should be moving out of his crib soon. The thought never occurred to me until this very moment. How is my Teddy big enough to leave his crib? Oh, the joy and energy that will bring to our house in the morning. Ted will have no qualms about rushing down the hall and first light to wake us up. His crib keeps him contained, without it he will be a free little man. A free little man to jump in our bed.

He tucks Ted in kisses his palm then places it against Ted's cheek. He turns his lamp down and switches on his music. I yawn and reach for Phoebe. "I have her," Christian comes to me and bends to lift our new baby girl. "Do you need help standing?"

"I think I've got it." Using the bookshelf for support I stand, still mindful of the tugs and pulls in my middle and in other places. Phoebe whimpers and nuzzles against Christian's shirt. I giggle at her, "I think she's hungry."

"Just like her brother," he says and I know he's remembering when Ted nuzzled against him in front of Grace at just six weeks old. "Mommy will take care of that, young lady." He touches her cheek and she reflexively turns toward his finger. He passes her into my arms. "I'll get your water, do you need anything else?"

"A banana?"

He kisses my forehead. "Just like when you were nursing Ted. Coming right up."

 **IN THE MIDDLE OF** our bed I help Phoebe to begin nursing. She frets until she finds her way, but once she has what she wants she calms immediately. Christian brings me the food and drink I have requested and sits down with me.

"She's a good eater," her marvels at our daughter.

"Hmmmm…she takes after her brother." She curls her pink flower covered feet against my body. I think Christian bought every single pair of pink footed pajama's he could find in the greater Seattle area for her. She'll never be able to wear them all. She has pairs with pink butterflies, pink flowers, pink clouds, pink ribbons, pink birds, the selection is endless, and they are all in shades of pink.

"I love her hair." He touches her fine blonde wisps. "I never expected it to be blonde, though."

"It will probably darken over time since we both have darker hair."

"I want it to look like yours. I love your chestnut hair." He moves his hand up and wraps a loose tendril, which has escaped from my ponytail and is now framing my face, around his finger. "God, I love you Anastasia." He says earnestly, as though he has a dire need for me to hear it. He looks back down at Phoebe. "Mia's hair has always been dark…I'm going to miss her."

"I know you are. I will miss her."

"She's so happy. She deserves this."

"You need to tell her that."

"You sound like, Elliot."

"Do I? He's definitely made headway in the growing up department."

He chuckles, "You're telling me. I couldn't believe I was actually getting good advice from Elliot Man Whore Grey this evening."

"What language, Daddy!" I quietly admonish him.

He smiles and leans down to kiss our daughter's cheek. "I apologize for that, Phoebe." He traces the outline of her face with his forefinger. He touches her nose and grazes his finger against my breast. "I love you, Anastasia," he says it again this time with a more tender quality to his voice.

"I know. I love you too."

His finger moves in a constant and soothing motion over the bridge of Phoebe's nose. All of my senses are honed in on the small patch of skin on my breast just above her nose. His touch there is soft, sensual, and loving. "The six weeks after Ted was born were the longest six weeks of my life."

As much as I feel like a squashed and unattractive mess of momminess I know exactly how he feels. "Five weeks and two days left to go."

"It will be the longest five weeks and two days ever lived."

"For both of us."

Christian shifts in the bed so that he is propped up against the head board. He brings us with him. My back presses against his front. He wraps his arms around me and holds Phoebe with me. So many times we sat just like this as I nursed Ted. "This is enough for now." He kisses my bare shoulder.

"Is it?" It is for me, I am tired and still sore, but I know how much he needs me and craves my touch. Especially after the shock of Mia moving away. He may not say it, but right now he wants nothing more than to lose himself in me, in us.

"More than enough," he whispers."

I let my head fall to his chest and lose myself in watching my daughter nurse, while we are both held in her daddy's arms.


	14. Chapter 14

Here is a new chapter. Thank you all for being so patient with me. I am on fall break this week and am travelling to the beach. I will be taking my laptop with me, but I won't be back until a week from tomorrow. So, don't be surprised if you don't hear much from me on here. I hope you enjoy the chapter. :)

A midnight feeding. A feeding just before two in the morning. Another feeding after four. Sitting in the rocking chair and feeding her as the sun comes up. Every time she drifts right back to sleep with a full tummy and a fresh diaper. I manage two more hours of sleep and am peeling my eyes open in anticipation of little Miss Grey's next nursing, when I realize I am alone in bed. I reach my hand across and the sheets are still warm on Christian's side. The sound of his voice on the baby monitor is joined by Ted's. My sleeping baby girl gives me a few quiet moments to enjoy listening to her brother and daddy chat with each other. I love eavesdropping on them, I always have.

The happy exchange going on between Christian and Ted is spoiled by a sudden, yet very clear, NO. If he was typing the word in an email it would be a shouty capitals. I sit up and shift the sheet and blanket to rest in my lap. Reaching for the monitor I hold it up to my ear to listen more closely. Christian is clearly trying to change Ted into a fresh diaper. It is a normal part of his morning routine. Wake up and change. There is nothing out of the ordinary, but for some reason Ted is not having it at all. Christian tries three times and each time he is met with the same negative answer. I can hear his patience and knowledge of what to do next waning.

Firm resolve not to have his nighttime diaper changed continues on Ted's part. I hear him zooming his trucks around the room. He is blatantly ignoring Christian. What on earth has gotten into him? The rumble caused by four toy tires rolling on the wooden floor fades on the monitor but grows louder and closed to my ears at the same time. He has left his room and is coming down the hall. Christian is directly behind him but stops when he sees me sitting up in bed.

He's holding the clean diaper in his hand. A flush of red is clearly painted across his face. His eyes flick to the monitor in my hand. "You heard it all?"

Ted rolls his truck, his favorite large yellow cement mixer, around Christian's side of the bed and towards the foot of it. "I did."

"Up, Mommy! Me, up, up wiff, Daddy." He's has a Cheshire cat grin. Like he's just eating the goldfish out of the fish bowl and is telling no one. My little boy knows exactly what he is doing. I have never seen this side of him before in such vivid Technicolor. I have, however, seen this side of his father. The side that ignores what he does not want to hear and continues doing what he wants to do.

Christian tries again, "Ted, you need your new…"

"No, no, Daddy. Me no want." He's obstinate and dismissive. Who is this little boy and where has my little boy gone?

The now familiar sounds of Phoebe fussing join in with the zooming of Ted's toy trucks. A muddle of toddler and newborn chaos. Christian and I exchange a bewildered glance, and I scoot from the bed to pick up my baby girl. I lift her gently into my arms. "Good morning," I greet her with a smile, and she greets me with an unsatisfied squall. She needs her diaper changed, and an idea occurs to me. "Teddy," I turn and call to my stubborn little man.

"Mommy?" He questions me back.

"Teddy, sister needs her diaper changed. Will you hand me her fresh diaper?" I point to the basket under Phoebe's bassinette with my chin. "Her diapers are under her bed."

He stops and looks where I keep Phoebe's diapering supplies. He looks back at his truck and much to my delight he leaves it. "Otay, Mommy." He riffles through the basket, which is full of diapers, and picks one of them. Proudly he hands it to me.

"Thank you, Teddy."

"Hep more, Mommy?"

"You can help me more, but first you have to let Daddy change your diaper." I am bargaining with a two year old.

Teddy considers what I have told him and agrees. "Otay." He walks to Christian and takes his hand. "Hep Mommy wiff siter." He tugs him back down the hall and into his room.

Phoebe continues her whimpers. I place her on the bed and retrieve her mat and wipes. I place them next to her so that everything will be ready for Ted to help when he returns. By the sound of the conversation coming over the monitor, the morning diaper changing ritual has taken on a much better tone.

Theodore Raymond Grey is two. The word 'no' is a part of his vocabulary, but never has he spoken it so many times, and in such a definitive way, without being swayed. Swaying him to do what he should be doing has always been a seemingly easy thing to accomplish. A month ago Teddy and I went to two playgroup meetups at the park with Kate and Ava. Several of the mothers there had toddlers as well as new babies. They all talked about how their toddler was going through the 'terrible twos,' and I was thankful that I could not relate. Kate shook her head at me and said, _"Just wait until his sister comes, he may be singing a different tune then, and you may be as well."_ Even my other mother warned me about the phase, but not my Ted. He's never been unmanageable. I've seen other children throw fits, some in that very playgroup did when it was time to go home. Teddy has never exhibited any behavior I would call the cliché 'terrible two' behavior until just now.

He tears back into our bedroom as I place Phoebe on her mat. Christian lifts him up on the bed and sits with him in his lap. "Hep, you." Ted leaves Christian and crawls to sit by his sister.

"Careful, Ted." Christian chides. He holds a hand out to shield our daughter from Ted's knees and bare feet.

Satisfied with his place beside his sister he folds his feet underneath him and sits up in his knees. The perfect picture of a big brother anxious to help change his baby sister's diaper. I love his bright blue pajamas with blue and white helicopters depicted as flying about all over them. The quintessential little boy. "Hep?"

I peel back the tabs on Phoebe's diaper and lift her gently to remove it. She scrunches her face and I prepare myself for a cry, but it doesn't come. I think she feels the movement of Ted on the bed beside her, because she bats open her eyes and closes her tiny pink lips. She turns her head first to the left and then to the right. The left side only gives her a view of my white pillow. To her right she sees Teddy. She stares at him and is quiet. "May I have a wipe, Teddy?" He grasps the clean wipe from the top of the pink plastic tub and pulls. Passing it to me he watches with keen interest as I clean his sister. "I need her diaper now." I hold my hand out and he picks it up from the bed. "Thank you, Teddy. You're such a big help to me." I dote on him and he takes the compliment with pride.

He puffs his little chest out. "Me hep Mommy wiff siter, Daddy."

Christian smiles at him. He catches my eye and mouths to me, "Good job, Mommy."

"Thank you," I whisper back to him. Teddy is watching Phoebe with love in his eyes. He reaches out and touches her hand. She holds fast to him and I let them interact in their own little way. She seems to have forgotten about having her diaper changed, and nursing is not in her realm of interest either. Right now the only she is interested in is her big brother.

 **"** **WHEN WILL YOU GO** back to work?" I swipe my last bite of pancake through the remaining syrup on my plate. Phoebe will be a week old tomorrow. We have never broached the subject of how long Christian is planning to work from home. With Ted he was at home for a few weeks, but then he had more time to prepare for his absence. Phoebe gave us all a surprise. I smile down at her tiny sweet face. She is sleeping soundly, her cheek pressed against the navy cotton of my tank top. She feels secure attached to me in the same wrap I once wore her brother in.

Christian finishes wiping Ted clean and picks him up, as usual he is done with his pancakes first and raring to go. His feet hit the floor and he runs after Gail. She is going about her morning work, he loves to follow her around the house. He chats with her about anything and everything. Talking her ear off, but she never minds a bit.

He sits down in the chair next to me and leans back, propping his foot on his knee. He is the epitome of drop dead gorgeous in blue pajama pants and a white t shirt. "Are you trying to get rid of me?" He raises a playful eyebrow at me. He was up with me every single time I nursed Phoebe last night, but as usual he looks like he slept for a full eight hours. If I didn't feel and look like a frump I would jump in his lap. Instead I settle for appreciating watching him lick a smudge of syrup left over from cleaning Ted from his thumb.

"No, you know I'm not."

"I know," he puts his knee down and leans forward to touch my face. "I'm not ready to go back to work yet. She's so small. I want to be here with you and our children. Ros is taking care of things. Operations in Belfast are right on schedule. Detroit is practically running on its own, and New York can wait until I get back and Ros can get there." Earnest dedication emanates from his steely gray gaze. "I'm going to work from home for as long as I can. I may have to see a few clients here, but most of my meetings can be done via teleconference."

"It sounds like you intend to take an extensive paternity leave."

"I do." He kisses my lips softly. I'm lost momentarily in the soft feel of his lips. Body of deflated momminess or not, I'm not dead, and Christian's lips against mine always make me feel very much alive. "Besides, day after tomorrow is our third wedding anniversary."

I want to pout and tell him not to remind me, but there is some kind of mischievous glimmer in his expression that stops me. I had so many things planned for our anniversary. Sexy, hot things, and all of them would have taken place in our playroom. The delightful twist, which was thrown into my plans wriggles slightly against me. She opens and closes one of her fists and then settles back to sleep.

Reading my mind, like always, Christian tips my chin up so that I am looking at him. "I have plans for you, Mrs. Grey. I want to spend the entire day with you and the night. I promise you that I intend to give you pleasure."

"How? Remember? Five weeks and…" What is he talking about? Just last night we were counting down the time left until my six week appointment with Dr. Greene.

"You're not giving me any credit for my creative prowess." His thumb moves in small circles on the side of my chin. "I will never allow one wedding anniversary to go by without showing you how beautiful you are, and how much you make me want you every moment of every day."

My inner goddess stirs from her six day slumber. She has been a slouch in a nursing tank and sweat pants. Hearing Christian's words, she immediately begins running a brush through her hair and reaching for her scarlet lipstick. I wait with a drawn breath for him to continue his verbal seduction, but he releases my chin and taps the tip of my nose.

"You're not getting any details out of me, Mrs. Grey." _Crap, he knows me too well._ "The thirtieth isn't too far away. You can wait until then." He kisses me again. "I'm going to go call Mia before I start in on my emails. I should only be an hour. Do you need anything?"

I smile and lean in to initiate my own kiss on his lips. "No, we're good. You go work, Daddy."

I tuck my wrap away from Phoebe's face and he touches her cheek with the back of his knuckle. "Every once in a while I catch myself still marveling over the fact that she's really here."

"Oh, she's very much here, Daddy. Just wait a half hour or so and she will be very much here when she is wanting to be nursed."

"My two beautiful girls." He kisses Phoebe on the forehead and then me.

He stands and I stand with him. "I'm going to see if I can steal Teddy away from Gail and give her a break from his chatter. I'd like to spend some time with him before our daughter wakes up."

"I'll join you three when I'm done working." Christian leaves the kitchen and I move our remaining breakfast plates to the counter. Ms. Windham comes in and insists that I should not lift another finger. I thank her and go in search of my little boy. Maybe I can entice him to enjoy a quiet activity with me while Phoebe sleeps.


	15. Chapter 15

Enjoy!

 **RED, YELLOW, BLUE, AND** green crayons are strewn over the surface of the coffee table. His concentration on each picture he draws only lasts a short time, but when he is on a new page he is invested in it until he turns it, again. Scribbles upon scribbles, circles, odd oblong shapes, lines, and loops, every drawing is seemingly the same yet incredibly different. They are all masterpieces. I love how he sticks his tongue out, pressing it to his bottom lip with his teeth as he colors.

He holds up his latest creation, allowing me to see it from my place on the other side of the table. I have my own set of crayons, the same colors as his, but mine are mine and his are his. Or at least that is message I got when he divvied them out between us. "Preddy, Mommy?" The ends of the piece of paper crinkle in his grasp.

I set my blue crayon down on my piece of paper. "It's beautiful, Teddy." This doodle is comprised primarily of the color red squiggles. Mind is comprised of mainly blue stick figures. I'm not much of an artist, but I have managed to impress my two year old little boy with my menial drawing skills.

"For, siter." He brings it to me and holds it out. Phoebe is nursing, and her eyes are open wide. She likes to watch me while she eats. Teddy was the same way. She moves her eyes ever so slightly and watches him.

"I will frame it and hang it on the wall in her nursery." I take the offered picture and put it in my lap.

He tilts his head to the side. "Siter, sweeps wiff you."

"She does sleep in my room, but when she gets bigger she will sleep in her own room."

"I are big."

"You are big." I agree with him, and whatever idea he was considering in his head appears to be satisfied. Phoebe presses her hand against my skin.

"Siter nack milk, Mommy?"

"Yes, Phoebe is drinking milk."

A look passes over his face and once again I think he has a question for me, but it never comes. He turns and goes back to his crayons and turns over one of his previously colored on pages. This one will be a two-sided masterpiece.

Just as Ted is finishing his picture, Christian comes in the room. Crayons and papers are forgotten. He calls out to his daddy and dashes to meet him. As per their usual custom, Ted is picked up and held high above Christian's head. Christian tosses him up, catches him, and brings him down for a kiss and a hug. My heart, will it ever stop skipping a beat during that instance when Ted is in the air and out of Christian's grasp?

When he finds his voice through his fit of laughter Ted invites Christian to join him in his coloring. "Daddy, color?" He points back to the table behind him. The tip of my green crayon, every picture needs grass, is paused against my paper. I cannot color and miss the joy of watching my two boys interact.

"Sure." Christian kisses his cheek and sets him down. Soon Teddy has him all set up with a fresh sheet of paper and two crayons, a blue one and a green one. They sit cross legged beside each other.

"How was work this morning?" I swipe my crayon across the bottom of my paper to make a few more blades of grass. Whenever Ted notices me not coloring he prompts me to _color 'gain._ He was not happy when I had to stop long enough to switch Phoebe to my other breast. I smile down at her and tickle her under her chin. My happy baby girl. She's very content to be with us, but then she's been with us for months now. The only difference is that she is now hearing everything from the outside instead of from inside my belly. The way she is constantly focusing her eyes on us and looking around, tells me that she enjoys seeing the world too.

"Good, Andrea nearly talked my ear off, but everything is good."

"What was she going on about?" Andrea is sweet and talkative with me, but she is usually all business with Christian.

He smiles a pleasant and sweet smile. "She needed some time off next week." I nod, listening to him. "She has a doctor's appointment, she's expecting." I do a double take looking up from my crayon drawing. Andrea's not married. _A woman does not have to be married to be pregnant,_ my subconscious rolls her eyes at me. I roll mine back at her, _I know that but…well this news just comes as a shock to me._ "I think she was nervous telling me."

"I'm sure she was." He gives me a confused look. "It can be nerve wracking for a woman to tell her boss that she's pregnant. Thankfully I don't have any personal experience with it, but Kate was going crazy with nerves when she told her boss."

"I don't want my employees to view me like that anymore."

"Christian, they don't see you like the once did. You've changed."

His smile returns. "So you keep telling me." He looks down at the green crayon in his hand and then over to the little boy sitting next to him. His tongue is peeking out between his lips and he is engrossed in the act of coloring with his yellow crayon. "I have changed. I am not the same man I once was, but then you know that already."

"I do." It's my turn to smile. Christian Grey is sitting on the floor in the family room of his family home with his family.

"I want to offer extended paid maternity and paternity leave to all of my employees." He looks down at his blank sheet of paper as he says it. He makes a few lines on the paper, from my vantage point I see an upside down triangle.

"Christian that is wonderful." A line and another triangle. He looks up at me, just as Phoebe turns his her head away and releases my nipple, she is finished. I re snap my bra and fasten my top, then lift her from my wrap. I hold her in my lap and support her head between my thumb and forefinger. Gently I begin to pat and rub her back, hoping I'll be rewarded with a burp.

He's eyes are fixated and Phoebe and me when he speaks again. "I want other parents to have the opportunities you have, that we have. I want my employees to be able to stay at home with their families. We are so fortunate, Ana. Why not share that with the people who work for me? I want to offer the same thing to GP employees as well."

I don't know what to say. I'm not surprised by what he is declaring. Christian has a big heart, he always has. It just took him a while to find it. _It took you to help him find it_ , my subconscious whispers to me. She is smiling too. She is proud of Christian. Pride. Yes, that is what I am feeling for him. I am so proud of him. I am proud to be his wife and the mother of his children. I've always been proud, but hearing him tell me what he wants for his employees, for our employees, emphasizes it tenfold.

"I want that too, Christian." My words are simple, but what else can I say? He's already said it all.

"Good, I'm going to have my company lawyer draw up a draft for the new policy. I'd like to enact it as soon as possible. I want to benefit current new parent's future new parents as soon as possible."

Teddy, tired of hearing our conversation, looks up from his drawing. "Color, Daddy." His eyes look down from Christian's face to the picture he has been working on. The entire time he has been talking to me he has been sketching. Sketching with a blue and a green crayon. The expansive grin on Teddy's face makes me look at Christian's picture too. What was just two triangles and a line only moments ago has evolved into something much more detailed. "Boat, Daddy!"

There on his paper is a meticulous crayon sketch of a sailboat sailing across the waves. It's so simple, yet so detailed. Drawn with a child's crayons it looks anything but elementary. "Christian, that's beautiful." I look down at my two lonesome stick figures standing on wispy lines of grass. He can create art with crayons and paper, I can create two dimensional people made from straight lines.

"Daddy, preddy." Ted points to Christian's paper.

"Not as pretty as yours, Ted." Christian picks up Teddy's paper and talks with him about the colors on it. Completely disregarding his own talent, he gives all of his attention to his son. Their chatter about Teddy's myriad of colors is interrupted by one very tiny burp.

"Good, girl." I coo to Phoebe and cradle her back in my arms.

"Here, let me hold her now." Christian stands on his knees and scoots over to take our daughter from me. He supports her head and sits back down with her. Teddy follows him with a crayon and paper in tow.

"For siter 'gain," he says as he begins to draw, and I know he's making another picture for Phoebe. I'm going to have to buy several frames for her room. Christian watches him work and listens to his sometimes puzzling chatter. No matter what he's trying to say, my little boy is always very earnest about it. I think he's drawing a sailboat for Phoebe too, just like the one Christian drew, but I'm not entirely sure. Either way, he's happy and so is my baby girl with a full tummy. I'm happy too, sitting with the three most important people in my life. I scoot closer to Christian and lean my head against his shoulder. He kisses my hair and I curl closer to him. Heaven. I know this is heaven, and I get to live in it every day.


	16. Chapter 16

If you follow me on twitter you know that I have fought and fought with this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. It was a labor of love, but it was a challenging one to write. I felt like I constantly stumbled over my word choices. Trying to convey Ana's insecurities without coming across as silly or just plain stupid was a major concern for me. Please be kind, it is one of the most difficult chapters that I have ever written.

 **Ana's POV**

Tucked in for their afternoon naps, the house is quiet for now. In front of the bathroom mirror I lift my shirt over my head and unsnap both sides of my bra. I reach for the lanolin, it's tucked neatly in the gift basket from Christian, and twist the lid off. My delicate skin needs attention. I swipe two fingers through the cream and apply it to one of my breasts. Through the halfway open bathroom door I hear Christian. He's talking on the phone, and I assume it must have something do with work. I've been shutting and locking the door for my private moments, but it won't bother me if he interrupts me now. Not paying much mind to his conversation I rub my fingers gently over my rosy skin. The moisture gives me instant relief from the discomfort I have been feeling. My little Phoebe is a voracious eater. The amount of time she likes to spend nursing pleases her Daddy. He may not think I notice how he smiles as she eats but I do.

The bathroom door opens as I swipe my fingers through for my next application. "Let me," Christian leaves his cell phone on his side of the vanity and comes to stand behind me. I move my fingers and wipe them clean on the wash towel, which is resting on the counter. He drags his forefinger and middle finger through the white salve covering the tips of them. With is other hand he cups my breast. "Here?" He asks hovering his coated fingers over my nipple.

"Yes."

The first swipe of his fingers painted with the cream is medicinal and sensual. A healing balm. His touch mends me. It always does. My eyes flutter closed and I lean back against him. I peel them back open, wanting to watch him. This is the closest we can come to intimacy right now. Phoebe will be a week old tomorrow. One week may seem like nothing to other women, but it feels like a lifetime to me. I bat down those thoughts as soon as they surface, realizing how ungrateful they sound. Six weeks isn't long to go without having sex with one's husband, especially when those six weeks are a result of the miracle of a baby. My Phoebe is a sweet miracle just like her brother, and for a split moment I remember the one we lost. No, no, don't go there. Not now. Those days of bleak despair are over, they have been outdone by days filled with light.

"Don't over think things," he whispers in my ear.

"What?"

"I felt your body stiffen. Relax. You're overthinking things."

"I'm not." I know he will see right through my words.

"Anastasia," tenderly he releases my breast, reapplies the cream to his fingers and works back over the other breast. "I know you and I could feel the change in your posture. It is okay to enjoy this."

"It hasn't been…" There is so much I want to convey to him. My timorous worries about how my body looks. Not my stomach. I know my body will recover there just as it did with Ted, but Phoebe's birth was different. Will I always feel different because of it?

He kisses my bare shoulder. "You do not have to keep reminding me of that. I know, remember? We've done this before." _I do_ sound like a broken record. Mentally I chastise myself for it and promise not to bring it up again. "You enjoy the touch of my fingers against your breasts," he spreads the cream in a larger circle around my areola, "and against your nipples." The circle he is drawing against my skin encloses, making a smaller circumference. My nipples, both a darker shade of pink, harden instantly.

"Is this comfortable for you?"

My breasts are heavy and sensitive, but the soreness I experience when Ted was first born has been nearly obsolete this time. I lift my arms above my head and encircle them around Christian's neck, electing to give over to the pleasurable sensations coursing through me.

"If you keep doing that having put the cream on will be pointless. You'll have to do it all over again." I arch back against him, pushing myself into his hands. All logical thoughts begin to evaporate. My negative musings are slipping away.

His lips graze my shoulder again. "That is nothing I am going to object to." He cups both of my breasts, one in each hand, and works my moisturized nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Being at the mercy of my husband's hands and fingers is home to me. For the time I let myself feel what I have not been feeling, sexy. There is no tinge of shyness or embarrassment in my mind for how my body responds to his touch. To Christian I am beautiful and he makes me feel beautiful. I whimper, as he gently tugs and pulls. The touch of his fingers traces its way straight down to my core. I can feel it everywhere in my body. I'm going to come standing in front of our bathroom mirror.

"That's it, Ana." He coaxes and encourages me to let go. "You are so beautiful," he says and begins to describe in articulate verbiage exactly how he sees me. That alone nearly sets me off into a tailspin of an orgasm, but I cling to this side of sanity. I want to hear his words. They are washing away the jumble of contradictions, which have been playing in my mind.

 **Christian's POV**

Her fingers knot in my hair. Winding and working their way around my neck. She's close to coming, but refuses to let go completely. She opens her eyes, slits of blue stare back at me in the mirror. When I saw her in here, caring for her body, I had to come in. I had to touch her. There was nothing else for me to do. My hands crave contact with her skin, and being without her in an intimate manner is killing me right now. This is what I can do for her, it is what I can do for me.

"You are heavy in my hands, Anastasia." Her breasts, so full and swollen, everything womanly about her calls to me. I pull the hardened peaks that are her nipples between my fingers. "I love the deep cerise color you have here. I know how soft your skin is. I know how," to droplets form, one on each nipple, "I know how your milk tastes. So sweet on my tongue, sweet, sweet, sweet, Ana."

I have yet to taste her, still the memories from before are forefront in my mind. I smooth the pad of one thumb over both drops, collecting them I suck on my thumb. "So, sweet." She locks her eyes with mine. "Shower with me." I will her to agree. If she doesn't agree to my request this time how will my plans for our anniversary work out? Her forehead crinkles and she draws her bottom lip between her teeth, at the same time she casts her eyes down. "Ana?" My three worded entreat causes her demeanor to change completely. Gone is the wanton woman who was reveling in my fingers on her breast just a second ago.

"Christian, I can't." She's frowning and that little _v_ has formed between her eyebrows.

I touch it with my finger, wanting to kiss it instead. "Why?"

"I'm bleeding, Christian."

"Baby." There is not a reason in the world for her to ashamed of what her body is going through, after the birth of our daughter. "That doesn't bother me, you know that by now."

She nods her understanding, but I can tell that she's still not comfortable with what I want. I haven't seen her naked body in a week. Every time she is in the shower, or the bath, the door is closed and locked. In the hospital she refused my help. Even after I gave her the gift basket of soaps she asked for privacy. After Ted was born she was nothing like this. _Was it just because she needed me then? Would she have rather had her full privacy then too, but with the cesarean incision she needed me? What is she ashamed of? She is beautiful and perfect. She has nothing to hide._

I skim my hands down her sides and pull up her shirt, finding her bare skin. I cup my hands over her belly. It is only slightly rounded now, smaller and getting smaller still every day. Does she not notice how much her body has changed in a week? She's shifted her eyes from their downcast position and is watching the reflection of my hands on her middle. "What is it that you do not want me to see, Ana?" Her skin is warm under my palms. A shiver runs up her spine. "You are beautiful, everywhere."

She laughs, but it is not out of humor or amusement. "Not, everywhere." She mumbles the words to herself, and everything about her apprehension becomes clear.

"You have to heal, baby."

Her blue eyes well with tears, "But what if I don't. I mean…" She flutters her hands in front of her face. "I mean I know I'll heal, but what if I'm not the same even then. I was reading an article online the other day, and it said that some women are never the same again. It made sex sound horrendous after having a baby. What if I can't?"

She runs her fingers under her eyes to wipe away threatening tears. I grab her hands and turn her in my arms, no longer wanting to see her reflection. I want to look straight into her eyes with no barriers between us. "If you were having these concerns, why didn't you tell me?"

"Christian, I haven't had much time to convey anything like this to you. My parents were here, your parents have been here, Mia told us she's moving, I've been busy with Ted, you've been busy with Ted, I've been busy with Phoebe, you worked this morning, and…the list is endless."

"We've had quiet moments together, Ana." I shake my head at her, it is my turn to tell her 'no' now. "You have to talk to me, you cannot internalize this."

"I didn't give much thought to it until this morning when you talked about our anniversary. Sure, I've thought about how I feel like a puddle of mush most of the time."

"You are not a puddle of mush." I assure her.

"I'm being silly."

"There is nothing silly about telling me your feelings, Anastasia. I need to know everything about how you feel intimately. It is my job to take care of you, and I will take care of you. If you're not ready for a shower with me yet I can live with that, but please don't lock me out much longer. I crave you, Ana. I want to be with you. There will be no sex until five weeks have passed, but there is nothing to stop us from being intimate in other ways. I want to be intimate with you."

She presses her fingers against my chest through my shirt. "I want that too."

I wipe a lingering tear from her cheek. "No more tears, and no more holding back anything from me."

"Okay."

"Okay," I smile down at her. "Let me finish putting your cream on your breasts."

"Will you tell me what happened with your phone call to Mia?" She covers her mouth to smother a yawn.

"I will, when I put you to bed for your nap."

"I don't need a nap."

"You sound like our son, and yes you do. You are a new mommy and you need a nap." For now sensual touches to her breasts, amatory suckling of her sweet pink nipples, and the orgasms which are sure to follow, will have to wait. I will always care for my Ana and give her what she needs. Right now she needs this kind of care, and so it is what I will give to her.


	17. Chapter 17

A reader suggested the moment I wrote at the end of this chapter. When she said it I had to do it. I hope you all love it. I will be travelling for teacher training this weekend, so I doubt I will write again until next Monday or Tuesday. A six hour drive and classes on Saturday and Sunday does not give much free time for writing. An I have a field trip tomorrow with my kids, plus parent conferences on Friday. Just know that I'm always writing in my mind and will be back ASAP. Enjoy!

 **Christian's POV**

 **SHE IS SLEEPING CURLED** up on her side facing me. I brush a stray lock of her chestnut hair away from her face, allowing my touch to linger on her creamy skin a second longer than necessary. Her knees are drawn up, and hands are tucked under her cheek. In her slumber she parts her lips slightly, and her breaths pass through them softy and rhythmic. Sweet, beautiful, Ana, "I love you." I whisper the words aloud to her even as she sleeps. She does not hear me, but I will never be able to fill the space of our bedroom with enough utterings of, "I love you." The air has been filled with a multitude of them over the past few years. Many of them spoken in passion and some spoken in tender moments such as this one.

Content with the knowledge that Ana is sleeping in our bed, Phoebe is sleeping in her bassinette beside our bed, and Ted is sleeping in his room, I pick up my computer. I can work and answer email correspondences while they nap. I lean back against my pillow and power on my MacBook. Waiting for it to come completely back to life, I have time to replay Ana's concerns to myself. Instead of going directly into my inbox I bring up the search engine. For as many articles or online journals Ana found to highlight her fears, I am sure I can find some to alleviate them. I type three words in and watch as suggestions pop up. I click on a few, some are helpful, some are not. I make note of the ones that are and copy the links into a new email, then I take time to peruse through them.

I open a new document to take notes and begin typing down information.

Water based lubricant

Kegels

Pain pressure, infection

Will Ana be embarrassed, shocked, or upset when she finds out the private nature of my Monday afternoon research session? By the time I'm done reading just two online postpartum articles my head is about to explode. I thought I had a handle on women's issues. Christ, no wonder Ana was so overwhelmed at the thought of any sexual contact. I take a few more notes on suggested positions for sex, then go back to the email I have open with the links.

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Caring for You

 **Date:** July 28 2014 14:32

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Ana,

I am sending these links to you. Read them, please.

I love you.

.com

.org

Christian Grey

Your Husband & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I know she won't get these for a few hours, but I want her to have them. Legitimate and credible sources to educate herself with are important. Pleased with my small stint of postpartum vaginal sex research, I turn back to my work emails.

I have one email back from my company lawyer, he has drafted the new policy I want to enact. I read through it thoroughly. Having this new policy in the works and finished is imperative to me. I do not want one thing overlooked. I find that I am more than pleased with how he interpreted my demands into the written statement, and I email him back to tell him so. Then I forward it to Ros. She has a keen sense of detail, a second pair of eyes to look over it is not a bad thing.

There are a few more things to answer and read. Quarterly statements for Belfast and Detroit. The numbers are all more than in the black, and we are making outstanding profits. Ros has suggested that I look into acquiring business at another U.S. port city. I already have my feelers out in Tacoma, which is giving Seattle a run for its money, but Ros wants me to look into the southern U.S. I have not the foggiest notion why. She was the one who discouraged me from investing in Savannah. New York and Seattle have been fruitful investments. Clicking through some of the number's she sent me on top U.S. ports I am intrigued by both Houston and Charleston. Replying back to her I ask her to look into both cities. Having my fingers in one of them would give me Seattle, New York, and something in the south. Not bad coverage at all. Perhaps I could bring some of the green energy I am using in Belfast to the U.S.

I am deep in calculations, weighing the pros and cons of Houston and Charleston, when my work is interrupted. A stirring soft cry sounds from the bassinette. I flick my eyes over to Ana, she's still sleeping. She's only been asleep for about forty five minutes. I want to allow her to sleep longer. File. Save. I close the computer and move off the bed quickly.

Eyes, just like Ana's, are looking up at me. Her little pink lips part, as she lets out another whimper. "Shhhhhhh…none of that for now, Mommy is still sleeping." I tell her and lift her into my arms. As if I am holding a porcelain doll that might break, I cradle her against my chest. Her arms and legs reach out and strain against me. "Shhhhhhhh…" I'm stroking the back of her hand and jostling her in my arms to comfort her. She's appeased for a short time but not for long.

Under the umbrella of fear that her cries will get louder, I keep her in my arms while taking the necessary supplies for a fresh diaper from under the bassinette. I've done this before. I can do this again. Changing the diaper of a baby girl on my own, with no guidance from Ana, will be no different than changing the diaper of a baby boy. In fact, my shirt my stay a lot cleaner than it did the first time I did a solo changing job on Ted. Holding her close to my body I gingerly release her to lie on the bed. She scrunches up her face, and I hold my breath waiting for the cry. It doesn't come. She's quiet and her blue eyes are fixed on my face.

"Daddy has you, Phoebe Rose." My tone is coated in a hushed lilt. I crouch to my knees and stay close to her, as I change her diaper. She keeps watching me. The closer I am to her the happier she is.

With a fresh diaper on her, and the soiled on disposed of, I pick her back up and begin to sway. I find myself falling under a trance, gazing at the perfect being that is my new baby daughter. She is so much like Ted, yet she is different and unique. She will be her own person. I cannot help all of the prospects, which run their way through my thoughts. Most parents have dreams for their children. I want her to have her own dreams, and I want to help them come to fruition. My father had dreams for me. I will not dream for my children. I will only dream their happiness. My Phoebe Rose is already strong like her mother. Quietly strong. They have the kind of strength that needn't be flaunted. It is simply there. It is embedded in who they are. Her strength and courage will hold her and the ones she loves up. She will be the same beacon my Ana is. She already is a flare of inspiration.

Unthinkingly I am moving about the space between our bed and her bassinette in a waltz. My steps are small, they are nothing grand. Forward, back, I spin and circle with her. When we are turned to face the window the afternoon sun caresses her face. Her profile is so small. Her button nose, her blush pink lips, and the blondest hair I've ever seen on a baby. It is so fine and fair, I have to delicately touch the top of her head just to ensure it is there. The constant motion, and the rumble of my voice deep in my chest, as I hum to her lulls her. The melody is unnamed. It is not particular. It does not have to be, because the notes that make it up are combined solely for her. My song for her is made up of what comes from my heart. It is what I am feeling in this moment, and in this moment I think my chest will explode with emotion. My heart tightens and I swallow back unshed emotion.

I circle back to face the bed, and there with her own blue eyes open Ana is watching us. "You're dancing with her," she whispers hoarsely. A tear trickles down to the tip of her nose. She doesn't reach up to wipe it away. She keeps her hands tucked under her cheek. Her eyes are fixed on our daughter and me. The strength of her gaze reminds me how firmly our daughter held me with her eyes only moments ago.

"It's only a little waltz, Mommy." I try to shrug it off. Embarrassment tries to creep it's way in. I hadn't realized I was doing it until the very moment just before I saw that Ana was awake.

A second tear joins the first, and I want to kiss the tip of her nose. "It was beautiful."

I cannot stand it any longer. Phoebe Rose's eyes have drifted closed. I need to kiss my wife and wipe the two tears away. Still holding our daughter I climb into bed and place her beside Ana's chest. Reaching my hand up I swipe a finger over her nose and collect her tears.

"They were happy tears."

"I know." She tilts her head up towards me, as if she knows what I am going to do next, and I kiss her lips. They are sweet. I nestle my nose in the hair at the crown of her head and breathe in the fresh, crisp, scent that is Ana. "I'm sorry we woke you."

"I'm not. I wouldn't have wanted to miss that for the world." A sleepy smile full of everything good spreads over her face, and in that second having been caught waltzing with our daughter in our bedroom is worth it. I will do anything to make my Ana smile. "She'll want to nurse soon." She touches Phoebe's cheek. "And Ted will wake soon."

"The quiet afternoon will come to an end." I observe the inevitable. Nothing is quiet when our little boy is about.

"It will," she answers in confirmation.

"And I'll love it."

"Me too." She smiles an even broader smile.


	18. Chapter 18

_**If anyone missed it, I posted a Halloween 2014 story just a few days ago. If you do read it, I hope you enjoy it. Thank you all for your sweet words of support, your encouragement, taking the time to read, and for just being you. I appreciate you all more than I will ever find words to say. I feel like I know so many of you, you all mean a great deal to me. Sending so much love to all of the corners of the earth...**_

 **From:** Anastasia Grey

 **Subject:** How you care for me

 **Date:** July 28 2014 19:05

 **To:** Christian Grey

Mr. Grey,

I have received your recommended reading links, and have read the first one. Your thoughtfulness leaves me speechless.

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Caring for You

 **Date:** July 28 2014 19:10

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Grey,

You are of the utmost importance to me. You are everything. I'm nearly done with this conference call. I'm sorry to be so late.

Christian Grey

Your Husband & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 **From:** Anastasia Grey

 **Subject:** How you care for me

 **Date:** July 28 2014 19:13

 **To:** Christian Grey

Mr. Grey,

Ted is playing at my feet, and our daughter is sleeping peacefully on a blanket by my side. I think she likes sleeping on the couch. I also think our son is attempting to blissfully ignore the fact that bath and bedtime are approaching. Finish your work, we will be waiting.

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Tying things up

 **Date:** July 28 2014 19:23

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Grey,

He is the master of distraction, our son. I will be out to help you with bath time soon. The call has ended, I only have a few loose ends to tie up. One of them may or may not have something to do with you.

Christian Grey

Planner & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 **From:** Anastasia Grey

 **Subject:** Intrigued

 **Date:** July 28 2014 19:26

 **To:** Christian Grey

Sir,

You have me intrigued. Are you going to enlighten me now, or keep me on baited hook until our anniversary on the 30th?

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Patience, Mrs. Grey

 **Date:** July 28 2014 19:31

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Grey,

You only have 1.5 days left to wait. I think you can make it that long. Continue with your educational reading I sent you earlier when you are able to. I am leaving my study now and will be there in less than a minute.

Christian Grey

Master of testing your limits & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

The email is the only hint I get from Christian about the fact that he is planning something for our anniversary. I do not miss the secret smiles he throws my way when he thinks I'm not looking. The remainder of the evening is filled with them. He is pleased with his plans, whatever they are. The night winds down with peaceful normalcy. Ted is tucked in with two bedtime stories, Phoebe is nursed and rocked to sleep, and Christian and I fall asleep in each other's arms.

 **THE SUN IS NOT YET** up, when my seven day old Phoebe switches her clock work every two hour feedings for something a bit less organized. Her reliable naps for long stretches between feedings seem to evaporate into thin air as the night turns into day. The first thing I do is worry. I've done this before, raising an infant, but _they are all different_. I've heard, _they are all different_ , many times before. It has come from Grace, my mother, Kate's mother, and even from Carrick. Still my brain is working to solve what must be causing my newborn baby girl to be out of sorts. My first thought is thrush. Ted had it. Therefore, I instantly worry that Phoebe does too. I have to bring my fuzzy sleep deprived brain back to reality and remind myself that neither of us has any symptoms. Grace is due to come by to give her a checkup today. Rocking my sweet Phoebe in my arms, as she fusses through another bought of discontent, I look up at Christian. He's standing beside me looking helpless.

"Ted didn't go through something like this, did he?" He's asked me this question at least a dozen times. He runs his hands through his hair again.

Every time my answer is the same, "No, he didn't."

"Mom should be here soon, she'll be able to help." He reassures us both again. I look at the red numbers on our alarm clock. After the night we had and the morning we have had thus far, Grace cannot come soon enough. Phoebe has had maybe four hours completely free from restlessness, since I put her down shortly after Ted went to bed last night.

Giving up on rocking her, it is not helping, I stand and begin to walk the length of our bedroom again. I bounce her in my arms and she roots toward my chest. She nursed an hour ago, feel asleep for thirty minutes, and then the fretting started again.

"She's hungry, Ana."

"But she ate an hour ago." I'm trying to reason if she can possibly be hungry again.

"She wants to eat again."

One of the only time she calms is when she is nursing. I'm at my wits end. I sit back down in my rocking chair and lift my shirt for her. Being in my arms while I'm sitting down seems to be her least favorite thing right now. I stand up again and run the back of my finger along her cheek to catch her attention. It works and she turns her face, seeking to find my breast. Her lips meet my skin, skin on skin. She latches on and I begin walking. Back and forth between the bed and the window. A calm quiet befalls the room. Tiny pleased grunts fill the space instead. She seems lost in the act of nursing, so I attempt to sit after a few passes across the floor. Nope, she turns away from my nipple and grimaces her face in preparation for another bought of crying.

"Shhhh…no…no…no…Mommy will walk you, Phoebe." I stand and continue wearing a trail in the hardwood floor.

Christian's phone rings in his pocket and he takes it out. "Ros, I need to call you back." His tension is clear in his voice. His posture has been taut and his physical movements jittery. Phoebe's calm nursing alleviates that some, he's still worried for her. I soothe and coo to her. Hoping my voice will calm her daddy too.

"The board in Belfast has been diffused. Yes, you are correct. No, I'm not. I will be unavailable until further notice. He can help you with this, yes. Actually, call my father. He has a contact there who can help us with the legalities. No, I've seen the diagrams, the plans look excellent." As he talks he's losing the anxious edge he had when he initially answered the call. "I will call you back when I can, but yes, everything is a-go as far as I'm concerned. I want to seek duplicating these designs here in Seattle too. I will broach the validities of that with my father later. Yes, thank you. Bye."

I halt my steps as he comes to me. I do continue swaying. "She was hungry," he feathers his fingers over her delicate cheek. "She's quiet now."

The figure of her father standing over her is probably fuzzy in her, still very new, line of vision. She knows him, though. She knows his touch and his voice. She opens her eyes and looks up at him. Her fingers flex against my breast and she reaches them out. Making her hand as big as she can.

Quick footsteps are coming down the hall. "That'll be our son, Mr. Grey."

"Yes, Gail's had him all morning."

"Go to him, give her a break from him. I'm sure he's kept her hopping."

"Are you sure?" He looks down at our daughter. He's waging an inner war with himself. He wants to be with Phoebe and me, but he wants to be with Ted too.

"I think she's doing better, don't you?"

"For now. Ana, what if something is wrong? What if she's sick?" I cannot disregard his concerns, as I have the same.

"Grace will be here within the hour. We know she's not running a fever. Let's wait. It could be nothing. She could just be fussy."

"I'll be right downstairs."

Teddy is not far from our room. "Go, catch him and take him to play outside." Phoebe closes her eyes and I think she may be settling in for a long session of nursing. Hopefully this will be followed by an even longer nap.

 **GRACE TALKS PHOEBE THROUGH** the short exam. Telling her everything she is doing as she does it. I would say Phoebe is listening, but I think she's much more interested in the sleep she is finally getting than hearing her grandma talk. She sleeps through the entire exam. With heavy eyelids I recant to Grace how the last 12 plus hours have gone. I even yawn a few times. _Please, Phoebe Rose, sleep this afternoon and sleep tonight._ Grace smiles and expertly scoops her newborn granddaughter into her arms.

"It sounds like she is a tougher customer than her big brother was."

A tougher customer? That's it? "So, there's nothing wrong?"

"Not a thing in the world." She turns her smile to my baby, who for now appears to be the same baby I brought home from the hospital. "Ana, honey…all babies are…"

"All babies are different," I smile and put my finger out, allowing Phoebe to grasp tightly around it.

"I've told you that before."

"You have."

Christian looks on from the other side of our bed, he appears to be nonplussed by his mother's diagnoses of nothing. He has his arms crossed over his chest and is sizing up the conversation between us. I'm nearly holding my breath waiting for the interrogative lines, which I know are bound to come.

"Some babies are pickier than others. What works to soothe her one day, may not work the next day."

"Why would she change her temperament so drastically overnight? You have missed something." He speaks up, voicing his very obvious disagreement with Grace.

"Christian, I have not missed anything. She is perfectly healthy. It could have been nothing, or it could have been something as simple as a stomach ache from gas." I snicker and look at my husband, who is trying hard to maintain his serious face. He is fighting back a smile. "Is she crying anymore?"

"No." There was not a reason for him to answer her question. Phoebe has already answered it, she is still sleeping.

Grace passes my sleeping baby into my arms. "If she begins fussing profusely again and everything else fails, try putting her on her back. Then move her legs like she's riding a bicycle. That should help her move the gas along. She'll be much more comfortable afterwards, if that is the cause for her discomfort." She touches Phoebe's fine blonde hair. "If she's feeling up to it, and you all are too," she turns slightly to include both of us in the conversation. "We're going to have a family dinner on Saturday."

My mind swings to Mia, and I wonder if she's told her parents about France yet. If I had to wager a guess, based on how casual Grace is acting, I would guess that she has not. If Christian is thinking the same thing as I am, he is doing a good job at hiding it. He uncross his arms and walks around the foot of our bed. He runs his hand over Phoebe's head, his fingers down the bridge of her nose, and the length of her body until he is at the tip of her toes.

"We will plan to be there, Mom."

"Good. I'm going to go visit with my grandson for a short time before leaving, if that's alright?" She gathers her things in her hands. "Call me if you need me before then."

"We will, I'll follow you down stairs."

"No, son. I'll see to Teddy. You stay here with Ana and Phoebe. Ana, honey…try to get some rest. It's important that you rest so you can take care of her."

Are the dark circles under my eyes that obvious? I must look like death warmed over. I feel like it. I feel like I need a shower, lunch, and a long nap. I'm hoping for all three, and in that order.

Once the three of us are alone, my wishes begin to be granted. Christian takes Phoebe from my arms. She grumbles until she becomes of aware of who is holding her, then she settles right in. "Where is your wrap?"

"There, folded under her bassinette. Why?" We're not going anywhere.

"You are going to take a shower. I am going to put the wrap on and tuck my daughter inside of it, then I am going to see that Mrs. Taylor prepares your lunch and brings it up to you."

"I'm going to need to nurse her again after I eat."

"You may, and then I will tuck her back in so that she is with me while you sleep."

"Christian, you are too much." Hormones be damned, I want to cry my eyes out. I have a vision of Christian walking the length of our house, with our daughter snuggled against him. He would walk to the ends of the earth to soothe her if that was what she needed.

"You need rest, Anastasia."

I cannot argue with him there. "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl." He kisses my lips. I turn to go into the bathroom and see him carefully place our daughter on our bed. He makes quick, expert work, of putting the chocolate brown wrap I once wore with Ted, and now wear with Phoebe, around his upper body. I pause at the door to take one more quick look at them. He has her in with little to no complaints from her. She is sleeping and she is happy. Now I can breathe more easily.


	19. Chapter 19

**_THE LONG SUMMER DAYS_** _are growing shorter and shorter. They are being replaced by fall. The air shifts from warm and dry to cool and damp. It is raining. The blue sky has been hidden by a thick blanket of clouds. I am sitting behind my desk at work, trying to focus on reading a manuscript. The slow passage of time makes it feel as though I have been working on this one task for days. I can never seem to finish it. As soon as I have every edit mark made they all disappear. Vanishing into thin air like I never put them in. I will never finish this task. I will never finish working. I love my work. Why should this daunt me so?_

 _She cried when I left home this morning. When I returned home from work yesterday I could have sworn that Ted had grown three inches. I'm missing my time with them. I find my fingers frozen in my computer keys a myriad of pictures, accompanied with sounds and words, play through my mind. Teddy clinging to my legs when I return home. "Mommy, me miss." My sweet copper haired baby boy. I long to sit on the floor and play trucks with him._

 _My Phoebe takes her bottle, but not without initial rejection each time. She prefers to nurse at my breast. She prefers to be with me, but every day I leave her. I leave her to come and sit behind this desk and work on this same damn manuscript. I will never finish. The hands on the clock on the wall across from my desk are stalemate. Unmoving they mock me. I will never finish my work. I will never makes it back home to my babies._

 **I GASP OUT A** breath and blink my eyes open. The sun is shining. It is midday and the sun is shining. There is no rain. There is not a cloud in the sky. Summer is still here, fall has not taken its gray hold on Seattle. It was a dream, a very sad dream. My heart aches even though the scenario I just conjured up in my mind was purely in my mind. I am at home napping in my bed. Christian is downstairs with our children. They do not have to want for me. I am only a room and a hallway away from them.

What was the dream about anyway? I've never had a dream like that before. My heart feels empty, like a part of me went missing as I was dreaming. I love my job. Why did being there feel like such a nightmare?

I don't have much time to dwell on the meaning of my odd naptime reverie. The anxieties it brought with it about my Phoebe and Ted have caused a certain physical attribute to show. The front of my shirt has two damp spots on it. Very strategically placed damp spots. I have soaked through my nursing pads, bra, and shirt. I have an overwhelming desire to be close to my baby girl, but first fresh personal wear and a new shirt are in order. I swing the sheets to one side of the bed and quickly take care of the necessities.

 **MY LITTLE FAMILY COMES** into view as I descend the stairs. They are in the great room. Wooden puzzle pieces are on the floor, and Christian is patiently guiding Ted through matching the picture of a barn with a silo on one of the pieces with its identical picture. Holding his hand out above the puzzle he turns it slightly to the left, "Turn it this way. There…yes…not it fits. What about the picture of the horse? Where does it go?"

Ted sticks his tongue out between his teeth and works to turn the horse so that his ears match up with his ears, and not with his hooves. He smiles when he manages to lock the piece into its place. "Did it."

Phoebe is still in my wrap, from where I am I can see that Christian is patting her bottom, as he works the puzzle with our son. I want to bottle this feeling up and permanently cement this picture into my mind. Twice now I have missed photograph worthy moments, I must remember to keep the camera handy from now on. How much anxiety this man gave himself over the prospect of having a daughter instead of another son…it was all for not. He never should have doubted himself. I am aware of how many times I have mused this in the past week, but I cannot help it. I refuse to apologize for marveling over Christian's capacity of love for our newborn baby girl. His love for both of our children, and his patience with them astonishes me. If I was not living this dream I would swear that it is too good to be true.

A diminutive whimper, which I am beginning to recognize as her first sign of hunger, finds my ears. Naturally my body responds to my baby's need. The motion of me crossing to them catches Ted's eye and he turns. "Mommy up, Daddy."

"There's my beautiful girl. You look rested."

"I slept well," I smile and the memory of the dream I had just before waking finds its way to the forefront of my mind. Christian looks up at me lowers his brows and tilts his head to one side. I continue to smile through the muddle of thoughts. "I think she's getting hungry." I sit on the floor and pull the chocolate brown fabric away from Phoebe's face. Her eyes open and I think they are seeking me out.

Christian frees her from the swaddle and I hold my arms out for her. She stretches her entire body from the crown of her head to her tippy toes, blinking her eyes open and close the entire time. "She slept, woke up, I changed her, and then she slept more. I believe she was attempting to catch up on the sleep she missed last night."

"She and I both." I tickle her cheek and she turns her face to my chest. "There," I say to her when she latches. "So, no more fussing?"

"No more," his gaze does not waver from watching our daughter nurse, "for now."

"You think she'll start again?" It's a rhetorical question. She's a newborn baby, there will be fussy times to be had.

"She's your daughter," he says plainly. As if that explains exactly why our little princess turned into finicky girl as quick as the flip of a switch. "I can just about guarantee it. You keep me on my toes. I believe she has every intention to do the same. She wants to follow in her mommy's footsteps."

"Are you insinuating that I can be trying sometimes?"

"I am not insinuating." He leans over to watch our daughter more closely. Her fingers find my skin and she flexes them. Opening and grasping her hand.

Teddy puts a cow, which he has been twisting, turning, and flipping this way and that, into its place. "Did it."

 **EVERY PUZZLE IN HIS** collection has been taken apart and put back together. Ready to move onto his next task, he coerces Christian into some afternoon play outside. I watch them venture out through the yard, they are either on their way to the meadow or to the edge of the cold waters of the sound. Shore or grassy meadow, Teddy can find something to interest him. He will come back with treasures stuffed in his pockets.

Refreshed from my nap, and still perplexed by the dream that occurred during it, I decide to dip my toes back into work. My work is not something I have ever viewed in a negative light. Perhaps going back to it will squelch what my dream may or may not have been trying to hint at. I haven't given much thought to work for a week. I was the same after Ted was born. Babies take precedence over any other task. I have a moment of time now, though, and I was looking over the Aaron's manuscript for Hannah the day I went into labor. Emails and phone calls have been made to my staff, but I should touch base with them myself. Keeping Phoebe tucked in her wrap, I go upstairs to my office and power on my laptop.

My inbox is full of well wishes and congratulations from all the staff at GP, and several staff members at GEH. Hannah, Claire, and Kelli are all begging for pictures of my new baby girl. I open a new email and address it to all three of them. There are pictures galore already saved to our server. I choose several, upload them to the email, and type out a quick note about how she is doing and how much I miss them all. I hit send and go back to reading the other well wishes. I give each one of them a touch of my time, emailing them back I send my expressions of thanks. If they took the time to email me, I should take the time to respond.

After sending what feels like hundreds of emails, all of them containing the same thankful sentiments, I get down to the real reason I am up here. I pull up the notes I had made on the manuscript and send the entire compilation to Hannah.

 **From:** Anastasia Grey

 **Subject:** Travis Aarons

 **Date:** July 29 2014 13:58

 **To:** Hannah Browne

Hannah,

I apologize for the tardiness of this email and its attachments. I will be around via email for the next five weeks should anything arise. Please look over the changes I have suggested, there are very few of them, and speak with Mr. Aaron's about them. If everything looks promising, I will have Claire draft a contract for him to sign.

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

Five weeks, it seems like an awfully short amount of time. My eyes are drawn down to my sleeping bundle. I trace my fingers around her face, her skin is baby soft. So new, she smells fresh and perfect. She is mine. Suddenly I feel an unexpected pang of regret for something, which hasn't even occurred yet. I want more than five weeks with her, much more than five weeks. I want it with Teddy too. He's grown so much. Seeing Phoebe this brand new makes it even clearer how much he has grown. Was it not just yesterday when he was this size? Now he's talking, running all about the house, and forming his own ideas and opinions. _Time please slow down. I know I have begged this of you before, but please for my sake as a mother. My babies are growing up too fast._

 **From:** Hannah Browne

 **Subject:** Travis Aarons

 **Date:** July 29 2014 14:06

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Ana,

I will go over the attachments and you will hear back from me promptly. Please know I am more than comfortable handling the bulk of starting this contract with Mr. Aaron's, should you desire for me to do so. I know you are busy, as you should be, and I do not wish to disrupt your family time with work. Either way, please know that I am here to support you and your company.

Hannah Browne

Company Manager Grey Publishing

I read her reply and drum my fingers over the keyboard. Hannah is more than capable of handling this contract. She's assisted me with so many lately. She has even helped to draw up contracts for our interns from the local universities. Why should I not give her the chance to stand on her own and sign her first author all by herself?

 **From:** Anastasia Grey

 **Subject:** Travis Aarons

 **Date:** July 29 2014 14:15

 **To:** Hannah Browne

Hannah,

There is no need to touch base with me if Mr. Aaron's agrees to the minute changes. Please, go with your gut instinct on this one. He's your client now. If you feel that he is a good asset for Grey Publishing to have, then by all means follow through with the necessary measures. I'm excited to see how this goes for you.

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

It's late in the day, and I know by the time on the clock that she's probably headed downstairs to finance. It is time to go over the daily reports. She will be busy with those until around five when the business day is over. I imagine her reading my email and bouncing in her seat with glee in the way that only Hannah can. I will hear back from her later tonight, after she's made it home, or tomorrow morning. Until then, I close my email program out and shut off my laptop. I've handed over my responsibilities for now, and I blow a huge puff of air out of my mouth. It's a sigh of relief.

Now my time is all mine to spend with my family. I am satisfied with matters at work. The paroxysm of anxiety has ebbed away to a dull nagging sensation. It is still there, but I'm not as panicked as I once was. I need to figure out how to work through it, though. I need to figure out what it means to me and what I'm going to do about it.


	20. Chapter 20

Enjoy ;)

Three years ago today I became Mrs. Christian Grey. I do not have to reach far back into my memory to conjure up the same feelings I had on that very day. I feel them for him every day, still. No passage of time will ever dull how much I love him. How can one day feel like it happened eons ago but still seem like it was just yesterday?

The tangible vision of our second child, sleeping soundly in my arms, reminds me that our wedding day was not just yesterday. Three years and two babies later, our love has only strengthened. The depth of our love is like a bottomless pool filled with nothing but clear water, boundless, pure, and ours. With each passing day our love is simply, more.

Shades of lilac and lavender creep over the walls. A brush of watercolor paints. The sun is peeking over the horizon promising to fill the sky soon with its bright rays. I rub the lack of sleep from my eyes and let my head rest on the back of my rocking chair. Scarce hours of sleep and her want for only me have both left me exhausted. I did not have the heart to wake Christian again when she woke for this last feeding. He has been up and down with me all night. Even when she only wanted the comfort of my breast he sat beside me. Touching her, talking to her, and doing his best to offer her solace.

In a hushed voice, as not to wake him, I whisper to my baby girl. "I always thought your brother was like your father, and he is. He is in his own ways. But you my sweet baby girl, you have his mercurial ways down to an art. Teddy bear is going to have to work hard to keep up with you." I tickle my finger under her chin and she spreads her lips in, what I like to think, is a gummy smile. After what Grace said yesterday I am well aware that it could be gas but for now, after the night I've had, I'm going to go with a smile in her sleep. A real genuine smile for her mommy.

The sound of sheets rustling pulls my eyes to my bed. Christian reaches his hand out to feel my empty side and blinks his eyes open. "You're already awake." He says in his scruffy morning voice. There is a pout on his face.

"Your daughter was not interested in allowing me to sleep any longer."

"You should have woke me."

"You were up all night with us, I wanted to let you sleep."

He disentangles his legs from the covers and climbs from the bed. His pajama pants ride low on his hips. "I wanted to wake before you did, wait here." He tells me then leaves the room before I have the chance to respond, and when he returns his arms are full. They are full of pink roses.

I count three bouquets of them, and each bouquet much be holding two dozen flowers. There are so many roses that I cannot see his face. Only his tousled copper colored bedhead shows above the rosy buds and blooms. The room is instantly filled with a sweet floral fragrance. I inhale to breathe it in. If I close my eyes I can imagine that I am standing in the middle of an English rose garden. The scent is intoxicating.

Holding my Phoebe Rose in my arms I touch and smell each individual bouquet. "Thank you, Christian. They are all so beautiful."

"I wanted to have them already in the room when you woke up."

I hate that his plans were spoiled, but my love for the flowers he has given me is not diminished. "That would be a difficult task to accomplish considering the fact that our daughter has turned into a little night owl."

"Hmmmmm…and she kept me from accomplishing it."

"I don't mind."

He shakes his head softly, "I don't mind either. You should sleep some."

At the bassinette, I gingerly lay Phoebe down. She doesn't stir. I let out a silent sigh of relief. "I think we can both sleep some more."

In our bedroom, the air thick with floral perfume, I curl into my husband's arms. "What else do you have planned for today?" I yawn and pull his arms around my body, clasping my hands with his. Our fingers intertwine and I trace the tip of my left ring finger around his wedding band. He cannot see my smile. With my back to his front I am hiding it. Keeping it and the gift I have for him secret.

"There will be breakfast in bed when the sun is higher in the sky."

My stomach concurs with the idea of his timing. It is too early for breakfast. My stomach has never been an early riser, it is too early to eat.

"Teddy is spending the day at the zoo with Mom and Dad."

"He is?" Grace never mentioned that yesterday. A surprise plan kept secret between her and my husband.

"Mmmmmm…" He nuzzles into my hair and kisses my neck. "He will love it."

"He always does." My Teddy bear cannot get enough of the zoo.

"You are all mine when our daughter is sleeping today, Mrs. Grey, and I intend to make good use of my time."

I glide smoothly between the state of wakefulness into the state of sleep. If our Phoebe Rose had waited until closer to her expected date of arrival, I would be making very good use of Christian's time today. The kind of fatigue, which can only be brought on by caring for a newborn pulls me under. I am sleeping a dream filled sleep. Erotic events of the past, memories mixing with what could have been today, and what will eventually be again begin to play in my mind.

 _My head is turned. My cheek is pressing firmly into the mattress. The sheets smell of rose petals and sex. It's a pungent amalgamation. A mixture of romance and sensuality. I draw my legs up and spread them wide, Christian's hands grip the backs of my knees. Before I could only move my head and my legs, but now he has forced my legs to be stationary with his grip. My hands are behind my back, they are bound there, and I run my fingers over what is tethering them. The fabric is immediately familiar to me. His gray tie. I moan. Our bedroom is quiet. We are alone. We have not been alone for weeks._

 _"_ _Are you pleased, Mrs. Grey?" His teeth sink into the flesh of my right thigh, just below my bottom._

 _I whimper out a nonverbal response. Oh, how I've wanted this. I've needed this. He is not the only one who craves this carnal connection. He sharply nips at my cheek then traces his tongue over the spot on my skin, which I know must be red from the pinch. The room is veiled in darkness, though. So, even if I were in the position to examine the temporarily marred area of my body I would not be able to see it._

 _"_ _Answer me."_

 _The mishmash of unformulated articulations I have uttered are not satisfactory to him. "Yes, Sir."_

 _His lips stretch into a smile, I feel it against my skin as he kisses my bottom. "Good. You are going to be pleased much, much more by the time I am through with you." He slips a finger inside of me and crooks it. I tense. Oh! "Come…here…" He says the words slowly, and motions them out in a_ _ **come hither movement**_ _with his finger as he speaks. I come. Small, short, but mind-blowingly I come. I push back, my body following his command to move closer to him. An appetizer that is what I just had. A small taste of what is to come. He pulls his finger out of my body._

 _The wet warmth of his tongue traces up to the end of my spine. He pauses and kisses my fingertips. I wind my fingers around the tie, as he begins his trail down again. Down between my buttocks. Fuck, his tongue is there. It is hot and illicit and…and…I want to cry out and his name and tell him to stop. This is ghastly and my mind is telling all of the things I should feel, but I feel none of them. Instead I feel worshipped, sensual, and completely open the man I love. He continues his leisurely kisses and licks to the sensitive skin between my behind and my sex. Not there. Not here. He will know how different blemished I am. I have been so careful to protect my body from his vision since giving birth to our daughter._

 _My muscles tighten and I try to bring my legs together. No. No. No. My mind is working against my body's desire to let go of my modesty. He pushes his hands hard against my calves. "You are beautiful. You are perfect. Don't hide from me, Ana. Let me taste you. Let me feel you with my mouth." He breathes the words against the outside of my sex. His breath is hot. The wetness of my skin coupled with it creates an impeccable erogenous humidity. "Let me trace the perfect lines and curves of your flesh with my tongue."_

 _In the dark I want to crawl into the corners of insecurity. Continuing to hide my anxieties of imperfection from him would be easier. He is unrelenting. Christian will never settle for less than my body, heart, mind, and soul. I want the same from him. He presses a pleading kiss to the apex of my thighs. "Please, Ana…don't deny me what I hunger for. I need you."_

 _I relax, and the first swipe of his tongue between my lips is pure ecstasy. "Yes…Christian…" I exhale his name. The soft whimpers coming from my mouth urge him on. He nibbles and plays at my clitoris, the same as he did with my bottom. Bites, licks, and kisses, all concentrated on that one extremely sensitized spot. I'm shaking disarray of pleading cries. I reach of the edge of insanity and he glides his tongue to the entrance of my vagina. A deep groan reverberates from his mouth to my core, as he slips it inside of me._

 _He is a starving man, and I am a starving woman. With his mouth he is satiating both of our hungers. I stretch my arms completely straight, straining my fingers outward to touch him. The top locks of his hair are just out of my reach. I lift my shoulders from the bed minutely and arch my back. Fuck. He delves his tongue deeper. I am going to shatter into a million pieces._

 _"_ _With me inside of you," his mouth leaves me suddenly. He comes up to kiss my fingers and pushes me back into the mattress. "You will come with me inside of you." His breaths come out in a jagged staccato rhythm. He traces the top of my behind with the silken tip of his erection. Sliding himself along the same line his tongue previously took, I can feel his own wetness leaving a path on my skin._

 _He hovers just outside of my body. "I'm going to go slow."_

 _"_ _Yes." I swallow to give some moisture to my desert dry mouth._

 _He pushes into my waiting wetness. The feeling is familiar. It is the same as before. I turn my head so that I am face down in the mattress. If I don't muffle my mouth in some way, my cries will be heard all the way in downtown Seattle. Any hint of hesitation I was holding onto vanishes into thin air. Christian pushes further inside of me and the world is just us. Nothing else is happening outside of this very moment. We are one…_

Chocolate and roses, the scents mingle together to form an enticing combination. Roses and…I inhale…no, I am smelling roses and chocolate. I attempt to open my eyes, but my face is smooshed against the mattress. What the…why am I sleeping like this, face down in the mattress? I turn my head and in a foggy state I blink my eyes open. It is morning, late morning I think by the amount of sunlight in the room. My muscles feel languid. I lift my hand from my pillow and brush my hair out of my face.

Christian is laying on his side watching me. He has a curious look on his face. Like he is holding onto a big secret, and is bursting at the seams to tell me what it is. "That must have been some dream, I hope it was about me."

Everything comes back to me, crashing out of my subconscious and into my memory like a freight train. I was dreaming. Holy cow, was I dreaming. It was so real. Mentally I grasp for images, sensations, anything I can remember. His tongue, the places he gave attention to on my body with it. I blush fifty shades of scarlet. "It was." I confirm to him.

"Would you mind telling me what I had the pleasure of doing to you, Mrs. Grey?"

My blush deepens and my stomach growls. Then the fact that we are not alone, as we were in my dream, becomes a reality when our daughter begins fussing in her bassinette. "May I tell you over breakfast?"

He motions to a tray resting on my bedside table. A sterling silver tray holding Pan au chocolate, croissants, fresh fruit, yogurt, orange juice, hot chocolate for me, and café au lait for Christian. A traditional Parisian breakfast, just like we had while on our honeymoon in Paris. This is the source of the heavenly chocolate aroma. I breathe in deeply. Chocolate and roses, my dream was comprised of roses and sex. My reality, for now, is comprised of chocolate, roses, my dream of a husband, and my baby girl who needs to be nursed.

"As long as you don't leave out any details." Christian kisses my lips softly.

I peel my body from its awkward position against the bed, and sit upright with my pillows behind my back. I am served breakfast. He climbs out of bed and places the tray between us. Everything is fresh, even the croissants are warm, and I know Gail has put a great deal of effort into this. I will thank her later.

Christian lifts Phoebe and places her in my arms. He is more dressed than he was when I fell asleep. He has a white t shirt on with his pajama pants. Grace and Carrick must have already come for Ted. "You feed our daughter, and I will feed you while you tell me exactly what I had the pleasure of doing to your delectable body in your dream." He winks at me and sits back down on the bed with me, taking a knife and a croissant in his hands. He is not going to let this go. I smile and bite my bottom lip. There cannot be one bad point to telling him every detail of my dream. Christian Grey has a tendency to make my dreams into realities.


	21. Chapter 21

It took me a whole week to write, I hope you all enjoy it. I love your continued support and enthusiasm for everything I do. Words often fail me beyond a simple thank you. You all mean a great deal to me. Thank you for reading. Now, get a cold shower running, and a cold drink beside you, because after this chapter you might need it.

Edited to add: I did a great deal of research and talking with readers of mine who are mothers in writing this chapter. Nothing about intimacy was written without some first hand experience discussions done with BTDT moms.

 **Christian's POV**

"Chocolate or jam, or both?" I hold the butter knife up, waiting for Ana to answer me on how she would like her croissant topped.

"Both," she smiles while watching our daughter nurse and slowly petting her cheek.

She's caught up in the moment of feeding Phoebe. I cherish observing these moments between the mother of my children and our babies, but right now I am on a mission to gain full knowledge of what had her squirming and sighing in our bed this morning. The sweet little breathy sounds escaping her lips had me hard, instantly. All I could think of was how I needed to think of something else to regain my self-control.

I offer the croissant to her lips and she takes a bite. Her tongue sweeps across her lower lip, collecting the sweetness left there. "It tastes like Paris," she says after swallowing the croissant.

"We will go back there someday."

"After the babies are older." I hold the pastry up to her lips and she takes it from my hands, then she takes another bite. "I'm hungry," she explains when she sees my shocked expression. I cannot believe she just took the croissant right out of my hand. I was enjoying feeding her.

"I can deal with that." Satisfied that she is eating, I take my own croissant from the tray and laden the top of it with apricot jam. "Your dream, Mrs. Grey?" My question is meant to segue into the story I want to hear. On cue she shoves the rest of the bread in her mouth, doing her best to evade telling me. "Smooth," I tease her and she grins with her lips sealed tight and her mouth full. "You know I'm going to get it out of you eventually, right?"

She fights back her own smile and swallows, "Maybe."

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

I swear it looks like she's weighing her options. Thinking about all of the possibilities, which could come from what I am warning. Christ, Anastasia, this woman knows all of the right buttons to push.

"Well, what's it going to be?"

"I'll go the easy way, but you have to promise not to tease me." _Tease you? Oh no, baby, I'm taking notes. Teasing you is the farthest thing from my mind. In five weeks, once Dr. Greene has given you the go ahead to resume all normal activities, I am going to make your dream come true._

"Scouts honor."

"You were never a boy scout."

"True. Ok, cross my heart." I draw an invisible X over the top of my shirt. "I'm all ears. Fruit?" She takes the strawberry from my hand, draws in a breath and starts talking.

Every last ounce of my attention is fixed on Ana as she shares her erotic dream with me. My memory is triggered back to her dream about strawberries and riding crops when we first met. The fact that she is sucking, biting, and licking one of those ripe, red pieces of fruit probably has something to do with the moment of deja vu. Her first words fumble out of her mouth, but she quickly finds her confidence. Her gaze darts between our daughter, the food she is eating, and my eyes. She mostly keeps her eyes locked on mine.

I have to fold my hands in my lap to resist touching her. Her creamy skin, the way she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, as she verbally paints a picture of my tongue delving into her most intimate places, I may very well go out of my mind. My need to touch her and be with her is so great that it is almost painful.

"And then I woke up," she finishes her tale. A rosy blush has spread across her cheeks.

"That was some dream." I attempt to make light of it, when I really want the next five weeks to be over the blink of an eye, so I can ravage my wife the way she deserves to be ravaged.

"That is an understatement." She presses her palm to her cheek to feel the warmth there.

"Did you come?"

"In the dream, yes. I told you that."

"No, but did you really come?"

She shakes her head and I think she's upset about the truth. "No."

"Would you like to?" Now she gives me a, _you know we can't and have you lost your mind_ , look. "Don't say anything about having to wait another five weeks, we've been down that road already, and I have it marked on my calendar."

She giggles, "You probably have an alarm on your phone."

Now it's my turn to laugh at the absurdity and blatant truth of her accusation. "You know me all too well, baby. Yes, I have an alarm set as a reminder for the day of your six week postpartum checkup."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Because you know me well."

"That I do."

 **OUR BREAKFAST TRAY IS** soon empty. Only a few scraps of fruit and last drops of drinks are left. Our daughter has finished nursing and is sleeping comfortably in Ana's arms. I have plans for us this morning, plans which involve Gail watching our Phoebe for a few hours. I gather our dishes and take them downstairs to the kitchen. Gail is working at the stove and turns when she hears me enter.

"Are you ready for me to take care of Phoebe, Mr. Grey?"

"Soon, yes. I will bring her down to you."

She tells me she has everything set up for Phoebe to spend the day downstairs with her. I am aware of Ana's constantly expressed gratitude for how much Gail loves our children. As I set the last dish on the counter, emptying the tray, it becomes clear to me that perhaps I do not share my gratitude with her as much as I should.

"Gail?" I think I catch her off guard by calling her by her first name.

She looks up from the dish she is drying. "Yes, sir?"

"Thank you for caring for my children." The simplest words of gratitude could never be enough, but I hope these will suffice.

Her eyes light up and her smile meets with them. "You are most welcome, Mr. Grey."

Walking out of the kitchen I know that I never had to thank her. Her affection and dedication to my family is evident every day. Something inside of me has clicked and feels lighter because of the fact that I did thank her.

 **ANA IS STILL SITTING** in our bed holding Phoebe. She has no idea that Gail will be up soon, she has no idea what I'm up to. I kiss her lips and tell her I'm going to go have a shower. In the bathroom I shut the door behind me and get to work. From under the counter I take candle after candle out of the cabinet. I place them all over the bathroom. On the floor, on the counters, the sides of the bathtub, and I light each one. With the lights off the room glows with a warm and flicker ambiance. The number of dancing flames ensures that the room will soon be permeated with the scent of jasmine.

I fill the tub with clear and pure water. Nothing will be added to the water for this bath. Taking care of Ana, and paying heed to what her body has been through, is at the forefront of my mind. No oils, no soaps, nothing scented will be added. I test the water with my fingers and turn the taps off. I still have her gift to give her, but there will be time for that later today. Right now I want to see her body and worship her in any way I can.

Satisfied with my efforts, I leave the bathroom. Gail is taking Phoebe and Ana shoots a smile my way. She knows I have plans. I draw in a silent breath hoping she will be willing to partake in what I have planned for us. Her modesty, while understandable, over the past eight days has been maddening for me. I want so much to see her naked body. I want to touch her without the barrier of clothing. She has gone out of the way to hide herself from me. Today I want to break down the walls of insecurity she has built up.

The door to the bathroom barely ajar behind me. Ana's eyes looks past me and she freezes. She can see the light from the candles. Gail leaves the room holding Phoebe. Ana turns her back to me and begins pulling the sheets up to make the bed. Her fingers fist the fabric. _You're losing her Grey, you have to get her back. Bring her back to the moments when she was sharing her dream with you._

My feet bring me to her, and I put my arms around her touching her hands with mine. She stops fidgeting with the bed linens. "I can't do that, Christian," she whispers hoarsely. I hear the tears she is fighting to hold back.

"What can't you do, baby?" I kiss the nape of her neck and little goosebumps break out on her skin.

"You have a bath drawn and have candles lit."

"Stop. I've told you very recently, you do not need to remind me of anything when it comes to the timeline of your recovery from giving birth to our daughter." I keep an even tone in my voice. I am careful not to force her or back her into a corner. She sighs, frustrated with me she jerks the sheet up breaking her hands free from mine. She pulls at it, tugs at it, and throws it down. It billows and falls gracefully to the mattress. She allowed me to see her naked after Ted's birth. I cared for her. This right now is killing me.

I turn her in my arms and there are two small tears at the corners of her eyes. No tears today. Not on our anniversary. I swipe them away with my thumbs. "I'm asking you to be with me…please, Ana." If the red numbers on the clock were not there to tell me that only a minute passes between my plea and her answer, I would think it was much longer. "Are you bleeding heavily?"

Years ago my question would have come as a shock to her, but now she answers without batting an eye. "No, not much. It has tapered off." Then she laughs sarcastically, "but I'm sure it will be back with a vengeance eventually. The same thing happened after Ted was born."

Her recovery has been a normal one. I've kept careful track, a timeline of everything she has gone through. The tears she sheds at the drop of a hat sometimes, the sudden change of emotions she has every now and then, her unnecessary insecurities about caring for Teddy too, and they are all normal for the first week after giving birth. They are all normal just like they were when she experienced them with Ted. If there was even one thing out of line with what is natural I would intervene immediately. Ana's wellbeing is everything to me. Everything about her is everything to me.

"Then come to the bath with me."

She looks past me once more, drops her arms, and takes my hand in hers. _Sweet, Ana_. She leads me to the bathroom. "Turn around, I need a moment."

I obey her request and give her the privacy she wants. The rustle of her clothing being shed blends with mine. When she tells me to turn back around her clothes are in a heap by the hamper and she is naked. I force my eyes to start at her feet, taking in the portrait of her nakedness from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.

The water is hot but not too hot. I lead her in behind me to cradle her in my arms. With her sitting between my legs, both of us bare to each other, I breathe in her apple filled autumn scent. Giving over to my urgent desire I press a kiss to the skin on her shoulder and taste her there with my tongue. She shivers and leans her head back against my chest.

"Jasmine," she exhales the word and inhales the floral scent in the room. "My bedroom smells like roses and my bathroom smells like jasmine."

"Hmmmmm…" I hum my agreement to her. Roses and a jasmine scented bath, precisely what you deserve Mrs. Grey.

Her body begins to relax and I know I have brought her back to me. She is back from the brink of reticence. She has been shy about her body, hiding it from me, but not now. She closes her eyes and I allow my hands to wander. Down to her hips, I glide them under the clear water. Up from her hips I move to her sides and then to her arms. It is a slow massage. On the next trip down I run my fingers over her belly. A small bump is still there, evidence of the recent birth of our daughter. She tries to wriggle away, but I keep her still.

"I love every part of you. Don't shy away." I press a kiss to the back of her ear, as I whisper to her. The golden flames give a warm glow her to skin. I cannot touch her fast enough or slow enough. I'm a paradox of movements, wants, needs, and my senses do nothing to help improve it. It's an erotic contradiction that I'm caught up in. In the water she is turning into a languid form. She allows the water to carry and support her body. An occasional sigh or brush of her hand up my forearm tells me to continue. She's enjoying this.

Past her slightly swollen belly I touch the outline of her pubic hair. Soft skin is covered by the shortest dusting of dark hair. I'm breathing in deeply and mustering every ounce of self-control. Her legs jump and she jerks them up, drawing her knees in and closing my hands off.

"Not there." Her voice is certain of her want for me to stay away from the area between her legs.

"You told me you wouldn't shy away from me anymore. Trust me." She's on a constant seesaw. I've seen the conflicting emotions playing out in her mind. She has to let go of them.

She stretches her legs back out. I feather my fingers over her once more and move up to her breasts. This touch she is comfortable with. Memories of our wedding and making love to her as my wife come flooding back. I own her pleasure, and I intend to make damned sure she experiences pleasure every year on our anniversary.

Her breasts are heavy in my hands, mindful of her comfort, I run my thumbs over her nipples slowly. She tips her chin up and looks at me with hazy blue eyes. She smiles and I am reassured. My fingers move simultaneously over her nipples, each receiving the same devotion as the other. With my thumb and index finger I squeeze them. The applied pressure ebbs its way through her body. Her fingers curl around the edges of the tub, her legs straighten like planks of wood, and she whimpers. _Not yet, Ana…I will be touching you here and there when you come._

She arches her back and thrusts her breasts upward. Warm milk trickles down into the bath water, and she pays no mind to it. I have her now. She is embracing the abandon I give her. Her body thrusts and sways in the water creating waves. The roll along the walls of the tub, I divert my eyes from their distraction back to writhing woman in my arms. She slips down further into the water and I'm pressing hard against her lower back. Fuck. I need to come, but Ana will come first.

I take the moment of liberty, which has presented itself to me and slip one hand to the juncture of her thighs. She does not resist. "Christian," she bites my name out, her voice straining for control.

"Hush, I have you, baby." There, right there, I press my fingers to her clitoris. I roll them and grasp the sensitive skin between them. Touching her exactly how I know she needs me too, I lure her orgasm to the surface. She comes apart at the mercy of my hands. The water splashes above her chin and she cries out. Her body and the water surrounding us are both filled with undulations. Pleasure, and its effects, cause waves to course all the way to the tips of her toes and over the sides of the tub. Splashes hit the floor each time she whimpers for me.

 **"** **HOW WAS THAT?" I** kiss the top of her head. She lolls it back to look at me. Her blue eyes are no longer filled with the haze of want, they are glassy with satisfaction.

She lets out a contented breath and smiles. "It was exactly what I needed." I kiss her hair again. I knew that, but I'll never share that with her. "I want to return the gesture." She sits up and looks at me with a bold and daring grin on her face.

 _Oh, my dear sweet, Mrs. Grey._

Ana rises to her knees in the tub. More water displaces to the floor. She grips my erection and begins working her hands up and down. By the time this is over neither one of us will be clean, we will both require a shower. She watches her hands and I shift my gaze between her face and her hands. I am unable to decide which of the two I would rather watch more. Her facial expression, which is showing her obvious pleasure for giving me pleasure, or her hands running up and over the head of my cock. Christ, I'm rock hard and straining in her grasp.

Just as pleasure begins to spike through me at a nearly painful peak, she disarms me with a request. "I want you to fuck my breasts."

She has my full and clear attention. Did she just say what I think she did? "What?"

"You heard me." Ana releases her hands from around me and reclines back on the other end of the tub. She's facing me and daring me to take her up on her invitation.

The flames in the darkened room around us highlight the blush of her skin. The blush left over from the orgasm I gave her. I move swiftly through the water and look her in the eyes. Nose to nose. "Challenge accepted."

Kneeling in front of her I instruct her to slip down further in the tub. She does and steadies herself by holding the edges. I put one leg on either side of her waist and hold myself in the middle of her breasts. Soft and heavy, this is going to feel so good. My brain is screaming at me to hurry up. I push it aside. No. This I am going to savor. We have such a short time to ourselves. Every second is going to count. I cup her breasts in my palms and encase my hard cock with them. Mindful to give her pleasure too, I run my fingers back over her already sensitized roseate nipples. She may come again too. That would make what is about to happen even better.

I work her breasts in tandem with my thrusts. Her supple flesh devours my hardness. She is watching. Her chin is tipped down, the tips of her chestnut hair are soaked and cling to her skin. Fuck, I could wrap her hair around my cock and it would feel just as soft as this does. I'm not going to last long. That piece of knowledge is very clear to me. We're both panting. Sounds of sexual need and satisfaction bounce off the walls. The humid air is suddenly thicker than it was before.

"Yes, Ana…fuck…yes…" I grind out the words and pinch her nipples as hard as she can stand it. She cries out my name and I coat her skin. Hot and thick, my body spills onto her chest. She frees her hands from the sides of the tub and braces her feet behind me. Her hands join mine, kneading her breasts and coaxing every drop of orgasm from my body. Knowing she wants this as much as I do urges me on until I am completely spent. I am her pleasure and she is mine.

 **CLEAN, BECAUSE WE WERE NOT clean** after our morning bath, I step out of the shower and take a towel from the rack. I wrap it around Ana and run my hands up and down her arms. She leans against me. "I need to dress."

I wrap my own towel around my waist and tuck the end in against my hip. "I'll leave you to it. I have the rest of your gift to fetch from my secret hiding place."

"I wonder if our hiding places are in close proximity to one another. I have to fetch yours as well." She smiles up at me and I tuck a wet strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Dress and I'll dry your hair afterwards. Our daughter will be needing to nurse soon."

I leave her in the bathroom and close the door as I leave. The walls of her unnecessary timidities have been abolished. I take the little time I have to dry off, dress in jeans and a t shirt, and fetch the two boxes from the bottom drawer in my closet. One holds her mother's ring, which is now comprised of emeralds and rubies, and the other holds her anniversary gift. I look at the closed box with anticipation and satisfaction. It will look beautiful on her wrist. A time piece of chain linked stainless steel, the edges are lined in clear crystals, and every quarter hour is marked by a single rose colored crystal. Pink and pure for my Ana on the anniversary of our wedding day.

The knob turns, and the bathroom door clicks open. I hurry to sit on our bed. She has her brush and hairdryer in hand. "Come, sit," I pat the space in front of me. I will dry her hair, touch her, kiss her, and give her my gifts for her. Our day has been perfect thus far, I am aiming for it to finish the same way it started.


	22. Chapter 22

This was over all a fun and lighthearted chapter to write. I hope you all enjoy it!

 ** _Ana's POV_**

Our Saturday afternoon arrival to Grace and Carrick's home is a poker faced one. If either of them know about Mia and Ethan moving to France, they aren't giving anything away. Grace kisses my cheek, tickles Phoebe's, and then barely catches my toddler running at full speed up the front steps. Teddy folds into his grandma's arms holding onto her legs. She's laughing and telling him how much she's missed him. Only a few days have passed since she last saw him, but I do not doubt her declarations to him for one minute.

"Takes, Gama? Anmals, Gama?" He looks up at her with hope for another trip to the IHOP and to the zoo shining in his eyes.

"Not today, sweet boy, but I'm sure Grandpa has some cookies in the kitchen for you if you go ask him."

Teddy lets out a shout of jubilation and calls out, "tookies!" He's off at full speed again, this time in search of a pre-dinner snack, which promises to be filled with all things sweet and yummy. Christian hugs his mom and puts his hand on my back, leading me and our sleeping daughter into the house.

"Mia and Ethan are running late. We're holding dinner for them." Grace leads us into the back room. Elliot is there with Ted, they have four chocolate chip cookies between them. Apparently Teddy's trip to the kitchen on his mission for cookies was swift and fruitful.

I scan the room full of cozy couches and chairs. "Where are Kate and Ava?" I thought for sure they were coming.

"Ava had a dirty diaper and it was Kate's turn." Elliot makes a face, but at the same time he appears proud of the fact that this round of diaper duty did not fall on him.

Carrick enters and Christian gives him an admonishing look glancing to Ted and the four cookies. Carrick puffs his chest, "It's in the written grandfather code, son. It is my job to spoil his dinner."

Elliot, to Ted's very vocal dismay, steals a bite of one of the cookies. Teddy tries to take it from him and says, "No, Lelot!"

"He little man, you gave me the cookie."

Teddy snatches it back from his uncle's hand and tells him, "No," again.

What Teddy has just done is not right, I know it. He should not talk to Elliot like that. "Teddy," I say his name to get his attention. He looks over to me and I walk to him. "You gave Lelot that cookie. When you give something to someone you cannot take it away from them."

"My tookie." Oh, boy. This is not going to go down easily. We are on the brink of a two year old toddler tantrum, ladies and gentlemen. This could go either way. North or south, I am on the edge of my seat hoping for north.

"It was your cookie, but you gave it to Lelot. You have, one, two, three, four cookies. May Lelot have one of them?" I touch each cookie as I count it. The ever pensive eyebrow raises on his brooding toddler face. _Maintain eye contact with him, Ana. Have faith in him. You know your way around him._ Slowly, and begrudgingly, Teddy passes the half eaten cookie back to Elliot.

"Tookie, Lelot." He grumbles out in an adorable sulk. His bottom lip is puckered out and I want to kiss it.

"Thank you," Elliot responds to him.

I think about saying something else along those lines to Ted, but using better judgement I decide against it. He may have relinquished his cookie to Elliot, but he is not happy about having to do so. With his other three cookies he walks away and sits at the end of one of the overstuffed couches. On the carpet, not looking up at anyone, he begins eating his cookies.

"You know, Dad," Elliot starts after taking a bite. "You never let us have cookies before dinner."

I hear the front door open and shut. A voice speaks from behind me. "Maybe he never let you have cookies before dinner," it's Mia.

"Spoiled." Elliot finishes his cookie and is off his feet to hug his sister. A look passes between them, and by the almost unnoticeable nod Elliot gives to Mia I deduce that she has not told her parents about France.

Christian smiles at his sister and greets her, he even says hello to Ethan. Then he's back at my side, "Do you want to sit?"

"No, I think I'm going to go join Kate in the diaper changing extravaganza. Your daughter needs a fresh bottom as well." Phoebe's eyes are blinking open and now is a good time to change her. "Keep an eye on Teddy?" I motion to our still sulking little man. Teddy Grey can drag out any situation he wants to and make you feel guilty in the process. That is exactly what he is doing right now. Watching my husband watch him I needn't speculate where he got that trait from.

"I will." He kisses my cheek and I leave for Elliot's room upstairs where I am sure I will find Kate.

Kate and Ava are exactly where I thought they would be. I can hear Kate talking sweetly to her baby girl through the closed door. I knock on it and call to her, telling her that it's me. Ava is on the bed with her chubby baby belly in the air and Kate is kissing her from head to toe. She's giggling and grabbing at Kate's head.

"Elliot said you were on diaper duty."

Kate stops kissing and blowing on Ava's soft skin. Her eyes are filled with as much laughter as her daughters are when she looks up at me. "Daddy is a wimp about diapers, isn't he Ava Grace?" She dances her fingers over Ava's wriggling bare toes and then lifts her up slightly to slip a pink eyelet dress over her head. "Second dress for the day. Someone is a messy eater, among other things."

I lift Phoebe from my wrap and let her bag down on the bed. "The mess only grows. I just had a break up a dispute between Teddy and Elliot. Teddy gave Elliot a cookie and then attempted to take it back." As I tell the short story to Kate, we both enjoy a good laugh at the fact that a grown man was disputing a chocolate chip cookie with a two year old.

"What about your daddy, Phoebe? Is he a wimp about diapers?" Kate gives her attention to her niece. At just over a week old my baby girl is not nearly as animated as her cousin is. She has her moments of smiles and blinking her eyes, though.

"Christian is not a wimp about diapers at all. He beats me to it most of the time."

"Who would have guessed? He never ceases to blow every notion I ever had of him right out of the water." She runs a finger down the bridge of Phoebe's button nose. "Christian is a great daddy, Ana."

"He is," I sigh and allow myself to swoon a little. Over these past few days, since our little Phoebe, was born I have swooned every single time I've seen him with her. No matter how tired I am, I take a minute to breathe in the little moments of them together. I did the same when our Teddy was born, and I still do swoon to see him with Ted, but there's something different about seeing him with our daughter. It's something I cannot quite put my finger on, but I know it's there.

I come back from Christian Grey dreamland when Kate snaps her fingers in front of my face. "Ana, Earth to, Ana!" She's staring at me with an expression that tells me she knows where my mind was. _It was in the bathtub with Christian three days ago. If I close my eyes I can still feel the hard velvet of his skin sliding between my…_ Holy cow, get a hold of yourself woman. I blow out a breath. The temperature in the room has risen at least fifty degrees and I know I am the only one feeling the heatwave.

"Sorry," I reply sheepishly. "I was lost in thought."

"You were lost in dreaming about Christian. Speaking of dreaming, what did you two get up to for your anniversary?" She can read me like a book.

Cue the blushing. I can always count on Kate to ask the most personal questions, even if that's not her intention she does it anyway.

Kate gasps in that, _I know you have a big secret and you better spill it_ , kind of way. "Anastasia Grey, you have most certainly NOT passed your six week _go_ mark." I busy my fingers with undoing the snaps on Phoebe's pink footed onesie. I'm biting my bottom lip so hard that I'm sure my teeth are leaving indentions on it. "Ana…" Kate prompts me further.

"Listen, you don't have to have actual sex to have fun, ok?" I tell her boldly and she bursts out laughing.

"You two are so naughty. And that is a very _un-Ana like_ thing to say. I love it."

"And you aren't?"

"Aren't what?"

"Naughty."

She straightens herself and lifts her chin primly. "I never said that."

"Because if you did it would be a lie." I rib her.

She smiles and winks at me. "You know it. Now, one more question and then I'll leave you alone. Were you _satisfied_ after whatever kind of naughtiness you and your husband got up to?" She puts emphasis on the word satisfied, and I know what she's asking. Might as well throw her a bone, give her what she's looking for.

I slip a new diaper on Phoebe and begin snapping the pink fabric to cover her feet and legs. "Yes, I was satisfied twice." I try to reply to her a deadpan voice, but even after three days of time has passed I still cannot smile about it. Christian has always had, and will always have, that effect on me. I bite back my impish grin and lift Phoebe back into my arms.

"Your parents have a very healthy sex life," Kate tells my baby daughter.

I shush her, "Don't tell her that."

"She's eleven days old, Ana. I doubt that is going to scar her for life."

"True."

"She'll only be scared if she ever catches you two…"

"Kate!"

She puts her hand on her chest like she's taken aback. "I'm speaking from experience here. Lock your door. One time when Ethan and I were kids,"

"Kate, I like your parents. Can you not tarnish what I see every time I'm in their company?" This is a mental picture I do not need in my head. Mr. and Mrs. Kavanagh, oh dear heavens. No. I do not need that in my head.

"Got it, I'll tell you when we're older."

"Gee, thanks."

Kate scoops Ava up into her arms. "Shall we go see what your daddies have been up to, girls?"

Phoebe yawns and stretches her arms out. Ava smiles a gummy smile and dribbles some drool on her dress. _Dress number three, here she comes._


	23. Chapter 23

Thank you all for bearing with me over the past few weeks. I know I have only been updating once a week, but with the semester coming to an end I hope to be able to write more often. I have my final coming up, after that I should be home free. :) I've been thinking of how to pass a few weeks of time in my story, I am getting to a point where I need to do that, and have been given a great deal of inspiration this week from a reader of mine. ;) So get ready, because I may blow your minds with something a little different.

On with the chapter...

Kate and I walk down the stairs with our daughters in tow. Other than the sounds of our footsteps we quickly realize that there are no other sounds to be heard. A quiet has fallen over the first floor of the house. On the bottom step we exchange a glance. I'm wondering if everyone has gone outside, but then I hear soft crying that is quickly joined by chattering voices all erupting at once. I look at Kate again, and she's craning her neck around to look past the living area to the back room.

She leans back and whispers to me, "I think Mia just told them about France."

"Me too," I whisper back to her, but I'm not sure why we're whispering. I feel like we're eavesdropping even though I know we're not. "Why are we standing here whispering?"

Kate laughs, "Good question."

Mia is engulfed in her mother's arms when we walk in the room. Grace is smiling, I can hear it through her tears. They are the tears of a mother who is beyond proud of what her child has accomplished. Carrick pats Ethan on the back and shakes his hand. Watching from the sidelines are Elliot and Teddy. From what I can see they have worked past their cookie disagreement, and it appears my little man has shared another one of his cookies with his uncle. Christian is standing close to where I left him. His arms are crossed over his chest. A soft smile graces his lovely face, soft yet sad in its own way. If no one else can see the sadness there I can. It is subtle but it is there.

I leave Kate and go to Christian. I touch his arm, and he shifts his eyes to me from where he has been focusing on his mother and sister. "Ted and Elliot made up," he says and forces a wider smile.

I nod, "She's so happy, Christian." My words have nothing to do with what he's talking about and everything to do with what he is watching.

"I know, I'm good with it, Ana. Really I am."

I nod again remembering how he told me about the conversation he had with his sister over the phone. He has come to grips with Mia moving, but not so deep down I know there is an aching sense of loss throbbing in his heart. His fixes his eyes on his family again. When Grace releases her daughter from an eternity long hug her stare finds her youngest son.

Carrick's voice breaks the wordless exchange between Grace and Christian. "Two weeks? That's not much time."

My eyes swing to Christian, he closes his eyes and swallows hard. This is a blow. Did he know that Mia is leaving in two weeks?

"We had two months, but they contacted Mia yesterday and asked if we could be there in two weeks." Ethan is talking to Carrick.

Mia continues on, and I hear her voice but I am concentrating on my husband's face. "I'm going alone for the first month. Ethan will follow me. Two weeks isn't enough time to wrap up everything we have here."

This bombshell, which has been dropped on Christian's life, just keeps getting bigger and bigger. Grace is still watching him. I touch his arm and Phoebe lets out a small cry from within my wrap. Oh, baby girl…your daddy is crying too, only it is his heart that is crying. A silent cry.

Gray eyes open to find the deep blue eyes of our daughter. "Daddy will hold you, Phoebe Rose." He peels the brown wrap away from Phoebe's body. He cups her head and supports her tininess in his strong hands and arms. She melts into his chest and curls her feet up to her tummy. "She'll want to nurse soon," he says without looking at me.

"In a little while," I agree softly with him. She closes her eyes and her ever growing chubby cheeks move when she yawns.

Teddy calls out to me, having noticed my return to the room, and I am pulled away from the nearly silent trance I have fallen under. Christian is trying so hard to hold his emotions in check. Having our daughter in his arms is his way of anchoring himself, I think.

Holding half of his one remaining cookie in his hand he runs to me. "Mommy, tookie?" He holds the portion up to me in offering.

I smile and take it. Our earlier tussle, like the one he had with Elliot, has obviously been forgotten. My mercurial little man, so very much a two year old and so very much like his daddy. "Thank you, Teddy bear."

"Eat tookie, Mommy."

He's watching me hold the baked good in my hand. Being that he did share his cookie with me, a feat of great control for a toddler, I take a bite of it. Sweet, chewy, and chocolatey, no wonder he was attempting to hoard these cookies. They are delicious and I need the recipe. "Mmmmmm…." I make an exaggerated show for him, "Teddy this cookie is very yummy. Thank you so much for sharing it with me."

He beams, satisfied with my reaction. "Wecome, Mommy. Wuv."

I reach out for him and he folds into my embrace, holding onto my legs. I pat his back. "I love you too, sweet boy."

Gretchen, little Miss Pigtails, I almost laugh at myself remembering how I viewed her the first time I saw her, announces that dinner is ready. Elliot swings Ava into the air and Kate slaps at his arm. "You're going to drop her." Ava grins and a stream of drool lands right in her daddy's eye.

"Good aim, little girl." Kate is congratulatory to their daughter, while Elliot hands her back to her mother and wipes the drool from his eye. Even Christian laughs at the comedic moment.

Two weeks isn't long, Christian, but we'll get through it. Mentally, as we move into the dining room, I begin calculating how hold Phoebe will be around Christmas time. Christmas in Nice would be absolutely charming and we could all be with Mia for the holiday. She and Ethan will have had a chance to get settled by then.

Yes, the idea begins to plant itself in my mind. I will keep it to myself for a little while, as I work out all of the details, with Mia's help of course. Christian is incredibly good at surprising me. I'm getting better at surprising him. The watch I gave him for our anniversary a few days ago is evidence of that, but this will be an even bigger surprise. He won't travel with Phoebe right away, but she will be around five months old by then. Surely he won't object. I let go of the idea for the time being, but I file it in the back of my mind to be acted upon later.

 **"** **HOW IS HE?" POST** dinner, the entire family has returned to the back room. Grace sits on the empty spot next to me on the couch. Christian is over at the piano with Teddy in his lap. Together they are tinkering on the white and black keys. Every once in a while Christian is able to play a small tune of a children's song and sing the words to Ted. Those moments are few and far between though, because Teddy's fingers prancing across the keys interrupts him. Both Grace and I are watching them. This is another moment I am imprinting to my mind, taking a mental photography that can never be damaged or erased.

"He's going to miss her." I know she's asking about Christian's reaction to Mia leaving. There is nothing else to ask about. Out of habit I pat Phoebe's bottom through my wrap. She's sleeping peacefully. I hope this continues for the night.

"They will find a way to work through it. Christian will find a way. As Mia grew from a little girl into a young woman he fought the natural progression tooth and nail. She was his baby sister and he was never keen on seeing her any other way." _Phoebe Rose, you and I are going to have our hands full with your daddy._ "Mia told me how he reacted when she told him."

I touch Phoebe's hand and her fingers grasp around mine. "It was a shock to him, but he came around. Elliot helped him I think."

"Elliot?" Grace sounds surprised. She looks over to her oldest son. He's on the floor with his daughter, holding her hands in his and allowing her jell-o legs to try to stand in the safety of his lap. She bounces, wobbles, and collapses down on her bottom. "Hmmmmm…" Grace muses quietly to herself. She doesn't comment to me, but a pleased expression takes over her face.

"Pway a bear swong, Daddy." Teddy's little voice makes a request.

Christian's hands pause on the piano keys. "I don't know a bear song, son."

"Yes, pway bear swong." He's insistent, he wants a bear song and nothing else will suffice. If Christian can't think of one he better start making one up.

"I think I can help with this," Grace gets up and goes over to the piano.

Christian moves over, making room for his mother. She sits down and places her hands on the keys. The trio at the piano grabs everyone's attention. "You want a bear song, Teddy?"

My little man nods his head firmly. She places both of her hands on the keys and starts to play. The first note is alone, but it is joined by others on the second note. I quickly recognize the tune. On the second round Grace begins to sing the words to "The Bear Went over the Mountain." I've never heard her sing before, but the way she carries the tune of the simple children's song is enchanting. Teddy is thrilled, and his attention is captivated by his grandmother's sweet voice coupled with the simple tune on the piano.

When she finishes his claps his hands wildly. "Yay! Bear swong. Swing wiff Gama, Daddy."

There is no sense in denying his sweet request. Christian joins his mom in the duet, and by the third go around Teddy is tossing in a word here and there. My face is going to burst into two pieces because I cannot stop grinning. On the fourth requested encore we are all singing. Teddy is excitedly happy to be the center of attention. He is the maestro of his musical entourage, conducting us to sing with him for his delight.


	24. Chapter 24

Ok...I'm holding my breath here. I hope you all like this. The next chapter will having Ana's email in it. Let me know what you think...and as for Ana's work debate. Trust me on what I plan to do. She's going to find a compromise. I sense that there is a great debate over whether she should work or not, just please have faith in me and my knowledge of the characters. I promise not to steer you all wrong.

In our quiet house, with both of our babies sleeping, I crawl into bed. Christian lifts his arm for me to crawl under it and lay against him. I yawn and put my head on his chest. My fingers draw circles in his chest hair, while my mind runs through the day's events. Mia is leaving in two weeks. There will be so many pictures and emails in the coming days after she leaves. Pictures of Teddy and Phoebe. My heart is happy for her but sad at the same time, because she will miss seeing them grow. They will miss having her in their young lives.

I draw a circle around one of Christian's nipples and kiss him there. He lowers his iPad and looks at me. He's been engrossed in whatever he is reading since I stepped in the bathroom to take my shower. I look up at him through my lashes and kiss him there again. His skin is warm beneath my lips. I inhale his scent and hum my approval in the serene moment.

"Are you attempting to distract me?" His eyes cast down on me, and I give him a playful smile.

"That was not my goal. But since it worked, what are you reading?"

"Work," he lets the device fall to rest on his stomach. "I'm reading over a meeting agenda. Ros needs me to come in for a conference on Monday with the heads of our shipyard here in Seattle. My plan was to stay at home for another week."

"Christian," I kiss his chest before I continue speaking. I kiss him because I want to, and because I want him to know how much I appreciate him. I will never be able to tell him how blessed I am to have him. I may try with words and with gestures, but deep down I know that neither will ever be enough. "Phoebe will be two weeks old in a few days. I have Gail. We will be ok for you to go to work."

The look on his face tells me that he wants to believe me, and on some level he does, but he still has hesitations. "The conference will be in the morning, the rest of my day's work I will be able to handle from here at home."

I kiss him again, this time darting my tongue out to taste his skin. I am playing a dangerous game, one that I won't be able to finish. But damn, it is so tempting. How in the world did I survive the six weeks after Teddy's birth? The delectable treat Christian gave me on our anniversary is still firmly imprinted in my mind, and I want more.

Another thought flashes through to me, and I remember my dream about being at work and not with my babies. Seeing Christian struggle with leaving for one morning makes me wonder if I will be able to handle leaving every morning. _There is a compromise. Work through it and find a compromise._ My subconscious whispers to me and I promise her that I will listen later. I want to work out everything in my mind before I bring it up to Christian. _He will be thrilled with the idea of you staying at home with Teddy and Phoebe,_ she reminds me. She needn't have said anything. I can only imagine how much his face will light up if this is the path I choose to take.

A ball of nerves I wasn't expecting forms in the pit of my stomach. Is this my decision? Am I making it now without another thought? What about work, what about all of my dreams and everything I love doing at the publishing company? It is my dream job. I've worked so hard and I am good at what I do. _Compromise…_ my subconscious whispers to me one more time. The fact that she is being persistent but patient is not lost on me. She's usually a snarky and pushy woman. _Dreams change and grow. You don't have to give up one for the other. Compromise._

Christian taps his finger against my temple. "You're deep in thought. What is going on in that pretty head of yours?" I lift my eyes upward to see him looking down at me. I give him a small smile and shrug my shoulders. "Daydreaming and planning another erotic dream about your husband?" He guesses and I'm relieved that for once he does not see a hint of what I was just thinking about. He can usually see right through me. I'm not ready to share those thoughts with him, not yet anyways.

"Always," I smile coyly and kiss his chest once more. His fingers run up my spine and I shiver deliciously under the feel of them.

"I hope so. If I cannot enjoy having your body the way I want to right now, I can at least enjoy watching you dream about me having your body. Seeing your face contort in pleasure and listening to your little wistful sighs was almost more than I could handle."

My cheeks warm to scarlet with his words. "Dreams are not as good as reality."

"They don't even come close, no. But there is a certain power in dreams, and there is a certain power in words. The right combination of words can drive you into a frenzy of need when delivered properly." His voice is low with seduction, and I can't help but know that he is somehow hinting at something.

I yawn, the exhaustion from the day is beginning to take over. Christian chuckles and flips his iPad off then lays it on his bedside table. He flicks the lamp off, "Sleep now, baby. There will be plenty of time for words of seduction over the next few weeks."

As I drift off I wonder what he has in store for me. In what way does he intend to seduce me with his words while we await my six week postpartum appointment? _Does it really matter what plans his has?_ My inner goddess throws her hands up in the air in excitement. No, it doesn't matter one bit, because any plans Christian has will surely be hot as hell.

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Let the seduction begin…

 **Date:** August 4 2014 7:53

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Grey,

I am barely down the driveway and am already missing you and our children. I know it may be some time before you read this. Teddy will wake up and want his pancakes. Phoebe will want her second feeding of the morning. You will need your shower. In short, your morning will be a busy one filled with our children and love. But when you do have a minute to sit down and read your emails, or check your phone, you will find this from me. When you do please read it, and if you are so inclined please write back to me.

 _Lost in her sleep she clutches the pillow beneath her head in her fingers. He envies the blood red satin pillow case, because it is pressed against her rosy cheek. He wishes his lips or his hand were there instead. Caressing her perfect porcelain skin is what he craves to do. Instead of acting on his strong impulse he settles for watching her. He will only settle for this disciplined activity for so long._

 _She sighs in her sleep and sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. Does she know she is doing this? No, she is sleeping, but if she were awake she would be fully aware of what she was doing to him. She knows how much he craves to bite her bottom lip when she does it. She often does it to tease him. He smiles in this knowledge._

 _My sweet, Anastasia…he thinks to himself and continues to fight the urge to touch her. She's dreaming about him. This he is certain of. Her dreams only hold space for him, and his dreams only hold space for her. She is his dream come true. She is the one who took away his nightmares. She is the one who gave him all of his dreams._

 _His eyes drift down the curves of her perfect body. She presses her thighs together. Soon. Soon he will have his hands there between her legs. He will be the one applying the pressure she is seeking. His fingers will stroke her clit and draw erotic reverberations from her body._

Christian Grey

Not a writer, Seduction specialist & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 **MY MORNING IS BUSY.** I am finally feeling somewhat human as I step out of the shower. Thankfully Gail has taken over watching my sleeping Phoebe and energy filled Ted long enough for me to clean my body. I felt like a muddle of pancake syrup and breastmilk before my shower. Now I feel clean and ready to take on the rest of the day. I dry my body with one of the large towels and run a brush through my wet hair. I twist it up into some semblance of a bun and secure it with a hair tie. Cotton shorts, panties, a nursing bra, and a simple gray tank top will be my wardrobe of choice for the day. The weather outside is warm. I want to take my babies out to enjoy the sun and everything a day of living on the sound has to offer.

I am slipping my tank top over my head, when I notice the small flashing green light in the top left hand corner of my cell phone. It is sitting on the top of the bureau. I pick up my phone and wake the screen up. There's an email from Christian. Opening it I glance at the date and time on the email and then at the time on my phone screen. He sent the email nearly two hours ago.

The title tells me that this is not a business related email. Instead it reminds me of our bedtime conversation last night. My eyes glance over the message, at first I am reading it at a normal rate of speed, but when I reach the part written in italics my eyes halt. Oh. Fucking. My. Christian Grey has written what are the beginnings of a story to me. A love story. A dirty love story. _With you and Christian would there ever be any other kind?_ I'm telling my subconscious to shut up rather loudly in my head. I do not want to hear her incessant chattering. I want to read this in silence.

I look to the bedroom door. It's still closed. I am still quite alone. Good.

 _My sweet, Anastasia…he thinks to himself and continues to fight the urge to touch her. She's dreaming about him._

Oh. Fucking. My. My hand is at my mouth and I'm very aware that I am biting my bottom lip. He wants me to engage in continuing on this literary journey with him. Sure we've written suggestive emails and text messages to each other before. Don't all married couples do that to some extent? Well, maybe not all. But a good portion of them must. This though, this is something I have never done. It has never crossed my mind.

 _Let the seduction begin…_

Indeed, Mr. Grey, let the seduction begin. Two can play...er...write at this game. I'm all in Christian. Now…what to write back. I sit down on the bed and begin working through what I want to say back to him in my head. Where can this story go? With two people writing it in tandem the possibilities are oh so endless and oh so hot. Game on, Christian. I cross my legs and grin at my phone as I begin typing my first installment.


	25. Chapter 25

Enjoy! Finals are over, I have one and half more days of school until Winter Break. Writing is finally at the forefront of my life and I could not be happier to be back for you all!

 **From:** Anastasia Grey

 **Subject:** Game on, Grey

 **Date:** August 4 2014 10:34

 **To:** Christian Grey

Mr. Grey,

I always miss you when you are gone.

 _Her dreams are not far from her reality. Her reality is a dream come true. Lost somewhere between sleep and consciousness she thinks she hears herself whimper. If only she could peel her eyelids open, but the desire to stay asleep is too strong. She knows he is watching her. She always knows when he is watching her sleep even if she is unable to articulate it._

 _In her sleep filled fantasy her husband is tracing the lines of her body with his tongue. Hot and wet his tongue runs over her thighs. She opens them for him. Shifting to lie on her back she spreads her legs further. An invitation to invite him to feast upon her body is made by her gesture, and he is all too eager to accept it._

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

A wicked grin of satisfaction grows wider and wider as I write out my reply email. I am pleased with my addition to our sensual story. I hit 'send' and drop my phone on the bed. I have to leave it here, upstairs and away from me, or the desire to sneak peaks at it is going to be hard to fight.

 **ON A PALE PINK** blanket surrounded by fresh green grass my little girl is sleeping. She is bathed in the light of the late morning sun. Her eyes are closed against it, and she is oblivious to the boyish play taking place around her. Teddy drives his trucks around the line of pink and green. He stops them and runs over the patio, bringing back a blue rubber ball he sits down opposite me.

"Roll ball wiff me, Mommy." He spreads his legs wide, forming a V, and rolls the ball. It careens easily on top of the grass and rolls in front of my lap on the blanket.

I push it gently and it rolls back to him. Back and forth our game of rolling the ball goes. Teddy leans to the left to catch it when I push it a little too far one way. When he returns it back to me he puts off his might into it, and I think for a minute that the ball might take flight. He catches it in both of his hands and giggles.

"Dot it, Mommy!"

"You did get it, didn't you? You caught the ball, Teddy bear. Let's count how many times we roll the ball."

"Mommy, tatch," his smile turns to a serious frown of concentration, as he sends the ball back to me.

"One," I count aloud, and glide it back to him.

When he catches it he says, "Two!"

I beam, my smart little boy. "Three," I clasp my hands around it.

"Two!"

"Four," I tell him. Gently reminding him that the number four comes after the number three.

"No, Mommy. Me, two."

I look at him skeptically and then giggle to myself. He's two years old so he's only going to count up to two.

Our game goes on with Phoebe napping beside me, until Teddy decides to go back to his trucks. I count as high as fourteen in our game, Teddy stays on number two. I pick up the book I was attempting to read in between watching my sleeping baby and busy toddler. I open it to my marked page and begin reading again. I find myself unable to focus on the words. All of my mental attentions keep drifting to my inbox. Has Christian written me back yet? Where did the idea of writing a scene of seduction come from and where is he going with it? The lure of what he is doing is intense, and I can hardly wait to read his next email.

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Our story

 **Date:** August 4 2014 11:54

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Grey,

I will be arriving home soon.

 _In her sleep she shifts from her side to her back. He watches her spread her legs wide. She digs her heels into the mattress. His hands move on their own accord. Slowly they inch the fine white silk of her nightdress up. It gathers in a smooth rumple just above her stomach. He wants to kiss her there too._

 _He watches her face as he touches her. Waging an inner war with himself. Does he want her to wake up or does he want her to stay asleep? If she does wake, what a wakeup call this will be. He wants to wake her with the feeling of an orgasm quaking through her body. He wants to deliver her pleasure to her with his tongue. His body responds to his thoughts and to the vision of his wife unfolded out before him. He's hard, but unwilling to submit to his own carnal desires. This will be for her. She's waited for this moment. It will be everything she has hoped for and more. It will be much more. It is always much more when it is for her._

Christian Grey

Always at your service CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 **From:** Anastasia Grey

 **Subject:** Our story…I love the title

 **Date:** August 4 2014 12:28

 **To:** Christian Grey

Mr. Grey,

You should be home soon, which has me wondering if you will be in the same room as me when you read this.

 _"_ _Please touch me, Christian." She thinks the words in her still foggy state of mind. She arches her back, pushing her hips up to him in a small gesture of want. He has to know how much she needs his touch. It's been too long. She's been too concerned with how he will see her, if he will find her body unattractive and changed. Those worries are unfounded in their origin. She knows this because his actions and words have shown this._

 _"_ _Ana," he whispers her name. His voice is a rousing sound in the otherwise quiet room. Long fingers dance across her abdomen, causing goosebumps to break out on her exposed skin. She blinks her eyes open. Surrounded by the dim embryonic glow of light in their red room, he is sitting on the bed with her. His gray eyes appear much darker and ominous in the muted light._

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Our story…I love the title too

 **Date:** August 4 2014 19:23

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Grey,

You have been home with me for an entire evening now since we began this fantasy. Does knowing I am reading and writing this while we are together feel awkward to you? It should not. I love you, and I intend to give you pleasure in any way possible. There are so many ways for me to love you, Anastasia.

 _Her eyes open and she's watching him through her lashes. She is awake but barely. He touches her belly where she carried their children. Twice now he has seen the miracle of their love come to fruition in the form of their babies being born from her body. Twice, and he has been amazed by the miracle of it both times. He watches his hand disappear beneath the lace fabric of her white panties. He finds her wet and waiting for him. She is always ready for him. Her body relaxes into his touch. She has missed having his fingers on her and inside of her as much as he has missed giving them to her._

 _Without warning he pushes a single finger inside of her. She's tight. So tight. Her ripe flesh soaks him in, tightening around his finger. He's still watching her face. Her eyes widen fractionally at the intrusive contact._

Christian Grey

Guide of your pleasure CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 **CHRISTIAN IS LYING NEXT** to me sound asleep when I read and reply to his email from yesterday evening. Caring for our children took precedence over our emails last night, but now in the early hours of morning I take the time to read his words. I can barely control the shivers, which run up and down my spine. Guide of my pleasure, yes you are Mr. Grey. You are guiding me straight into an oblivion of erotic splendor.

I look over to see that he is still sleeping, and with the light of my phone dimmed I type out my reply email. I work quickly, laying on my side away from him. I don't want the light from my phone to shine into his eyes. I want him to read this when he is awake on his own accord, not because I woke him up. He was awake with Phoebe as much as I was last night. He needs his sleep too.

 **From:** Anastasia Grey

 **Subject:** Our story

 **Date:** August 5 2014 5:40

 **To:** Christian Grey

Mr. Grey,

You are lying beside me sleeping. Are you dreaming of me? What you have written to me has taken my breath away. You have every ounce of my pleasure, Sir.

 _He works one finger inside of her body. Sliding it in and out. Fuck. She loves his fingers. She always has. His long fingers, they were one of the first things she noticed about him. She blushes and covers her face remembering that. Even in her virginal state of innocence she loved his fingers. Even in her wildest dreams she could never have imagined what they would be capable of doing to her body. Now she knows how capable his fingers are of providing her with pleasure. His repertoire of hedonistic carnality has only grown in length since they first became lovers._

 _"_ _Two fingers, Christian." She tells him in a certain request. Her repertoire of expressing her desires has grown in length too. She feels brave and assured of herself. She does not waiver from expressing her needs to him._

 _His eyes remain locked with hers. He slips another finger into her wetness. She clenches her muscles around him and whimpers. "Good?"_

 _"_ _So good…fuck me with your fingers." She grits out the words. Her eyes are wider now. She's holding onto the bedsheets. Soon she will be fisting them, grasping for dear life. He's going to make her come, she can feel the beginning impending trickles of her orgasm prickling just below the surface. It's been so long…_

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing


	26. Chapter 26

I had someone tell me that this story has no drama, no real story line. I think they called it a mommy story, or something like that. I know I said at the beginning that I wasn't looking for any real conflict in this story. I only wanted it to be a picture of their lives. So, yeah. You pegged it. :) That's what I wanted it to be. Thank you for understanding, you got it right! :) Enjoy the chapter everyone and much love to all.

 **Christian's POV**

 **LAUGHTER AND BRIGHT GIGGLES** echo from the first floor up to the second. My son is busy at play with his mother. Rubbing the long night from my eyes I sit up in bed and realize I am alone. The sheets and blankets on her side are neatly pulled up and tucked beneath her pillow case. Our daughter's bassinette is empty. Ana has taken her downstairs with her. She should have woken me. I slip from under the covers with the intention of going to find the three lights of my life, when a small blinking green circle on the top of my phone catches my eye. I have an email. I almost leave it, going to Ana and our children is much more important. It is most likely and email from work. Work can wait. My family cannot. But something inside of me tugs at me, telling me to pick up the phone and read the email. I give in to the nagging notion and pick it up. There is an email, but it is not from work.

As I read my Ana's words to me, I find my knees growing week. With a few sensually written emails I have revealed the top surface of a seductress. Polishing her and giving her the courage to find her voice to me. These emails have revealed more of Ana to me than I ever anticipated. I only wrote the first one to her to put a smile on her face, to give her pleasure, and to continue to show her how breathtakingly beautiful she is to me. She has taken these emails to new heights with her own gift for artistic librettos. She is seducing me with her words, and I thought it was me all along who needed to seduce her. Once again Mrs. Grey has turned the tables on me. She constantly tilts the axis of my world, keeping me guessing and on my toes. I love it.

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Our story

 **Date:** August 5 2014 8:13

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Grey,

Knowing you were writing your email to me as I lay in bed sleeping, oh my dear sweet girl, that does things to me.

 _Her dirty mouth only urges him on. Her dirty mouth should be tamed, he thinks to himself, but chooses not to act on his observation. He likes it when she speaks her mind and tells him exactly what she wants. This monster he has created is a monster fit for him. He has known that fact for some time now._

 _*We are playing out a scene in these emails, baby. I fucking love it.*_

 _In his mind he repeats the words she once gave to him, "a monster fit for you." Watching her face, the little blinks of her eyelids, the way she licks her lips, how she tilts her chin up, he gauges her reactions searching for just the right time. When he sees it he knows it. He has her memorized. She's a book he can recite by heart. From the first page to the last he has committed every line of her every letter to his memory._

 _He flicks his fingers and she instantly comes undone on them. Her walls squeeze and pulse around him. Soon they will do the same around his cock. The thought causes him to teeter on the edge of control. He's balancing on a fine line, and the little sounds she is making as she comes are urging him to sway to the other side._

Christian Grey

Husband of a Seductress CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 **Subject:** Hardly a Seductress

 **Date:** August 8 2014 13:03

 **To:** Christian Grey

Mr. Grey,

Please forgive my delay in replying to your last email. As you know, life and our children have kept us both busy. It's a wonderful kind of busy I would not replace with anything. However, the email exchange of _our story_ has never been far from my mind. And with that, here is my next installment…

 _Her body is an explosion of brilliant colors. She feels like the brightest firework in the July 4_ _th_ _night sky, reaching high and wide the pleasure he gives her illuminates the darkness. The quick ascent into the oblivion of ecstasy is countered by a slow decent. His fingers slowly bring her back to the here and now. She is once again lying on the bed in their playroom in their apartment in downtown Seattle. Moments ago she felt like she was soaring above it all and looking down at it from the sky. Now she is floating like a feather in the late summer breeze. To and fro she floats down from the heights only he can take her to. She floats back down to Earth and she smiles at him._

 _"_ _Thank you."_

 _"_ _My pleasure, Mrs. Grey." He responds back to her and she smirks at him. She loves flirting with him. Do most women flirt with their husbands, she ponders the question in her mind._

 _"_ _I believe that was my pleasure, Sir."_

 _He withdraws his fingers from her body and holds them up to his lips. Making a deliberate show of what he's doing, he licks his two fingers clean. He runs his tongue up and down his index and middle fingers. Slowly. His tongue swirls over them. His long fingers. His fingers that were just there inside of her. Just watching him taste her on is skin makes her body quiver again. A small tremor, an aftershock, ripples through her belly. She places her hand where she felt the fluttering sensation._

 _"_ _It was my pleasure to give you your pleasure, and it was also a pleasure to watch that."_

 _"_ _Watch what?" She asks, her voice is breathless now. She knows what he's speaking of, but even in her state of post orgasmic bliss she tries to play coy._

 _"_ _You. Come. Again. I know you did. You came as I licked my fingers."_

 _There is no need to contest his acute observation. He is right. He can make her come without making physical contact with her body. He controls and owns her body, mind, and soul._

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Our story, I like this title better

 **Date:** August 10 2014 3:48

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Grey,

You are a seductress. You seduce me all the time, even when you are not aware of it you are doing it. I think I may have told you this before? If I have then it bears repeating, if not then please know you will hear it again and again. You seduce me all the time my beautiful wife.

Yes, baby our lives are busy with our children, and like you I wouldn't have it any other way. I am sitting in bed with you, you are sleeping beside me. I have just changed our daughter and tucked her back in her bassinette, now I am going to write more of our story to you. No matter how busy things are there is always time for seduction.

 _His short rope of resistance weakens and frays. There is more than one weak spot in his cord of resolve. He has to have her now. The memory of what she feels like, her soft flesh encasing him, he cannot live without being one with her for another minute. He puts one hand on top of each of her knees, parting her legs he moves to kneel between them._

 _"_ _I want your eyes open," he tells her. He craves to see her powder blue eyes, how they darken slightly when he pushes inside her body. He holds his cock at her entrance. Her body is slick. She is dripping wet for him. Swollen and pink. No more holding back. The first touch of her against him urges him on. He pushes in, carefully watching her face and her body for any clues of discomfort._

 _There are none. The only expression on her lovely face is one of complete bliss. Her lips part and form a small_ _ **o**_ _shape. He fills her and pauses. If he could freeze time he would, but his body is urging him to move. He has to move. Experiencing her is everything he wants and needs._

 _"_ _Love me with your body, Christian." She reaches up for him and he leans down into her touch, putting one hand on either side of her head. She runs her hand over his cheek._

 _"_ _Forever," he tells her and then draws out and pushes back in. He chooses to set a slow and even rhythm for their lovemaking. In this room of theirs, the walls and sheets as deep of a shade of red as their love, time is theirs and there are no interruptions._

Christian Grey

Seducer and Seducee CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 **Subject:** English lesson

 **Date:** August 10 2014 14:10

 **To:** Christian Grey

Mr. Grey,

For you to be a seducee, that would mean that I am the seducer. I am afraid you have that a bit backwards, but I shall humor you for now.

Forgive me if I don't add to our story right away? Give me a day or two to marinate on what you have written. I may need some help in the shower tonight to overcome certain ailments I am having due to your mastery of seduction.

*I am giggling as I write this, because I know you must be affected too. I would like to help you with any ailments you may be experiencing as well. I am a handy girl and I am sure I can help you, if you need it that is.*

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** An ailing man

 **Date:** August 10 2014 19:18

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Grey,

Our children are tucked in bed. I know you are sitting in the family room having a cup of tea, decaffeinated chai. Please place the cup of tea on the coffee table and meet me in our bathroom. You have exactly five minutes before I come looking for you. Please do not make me seek you out, I am a frail and ailing man in need of your handy assistance. Your hands, and your mouth, will both be of great benefit to my ailments.

Christian Grey

I need of a good handy woman, aka MY WIFE CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 **Subject:** On it

 **Date:** August 10 2014 19:20

 **To:** Christian Grey

Mr. Grey,

Consider it done. My tea has been abandoned and I'm on it. Or at least my mouth will be soon. See you upstairs.

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing


	27. Chapter 27

Here's another chapter for you all. :) The song I listened to while writing this was Elysium by Lisa Gerrard.

 **Ana's POV**

 **THE SEATTLE SKY ON** Friday, August 15th 2014 matches the gray in my husband's eyes. In full on Christian Grey mode he is barking orders out to the flight crew and the men loading Mia's belongings. There are two planes on the tarmac at Sea Tac, one being the GEH plane the other is a recently purchased small cargo plane. The latter was bought specifically for the purpose of moving Mia and Ethan to France. He was not going to have his sister moving her life via commercial air transportation. Over the top? Yes. Overprotective? Yes. Very Christian? Oh, yes.

He's pointing and speaking sternly with one of the men. Even in his take charge mode I can see the sadness in his eyes. Mia is standing by the SUV with me. She's holding Teddy in her arms and kissing his chubby cheeks. "I'll be back before you know it," she tickles him under his chin.

He wraps is arms around her neck. "Wuv, Mia."

"I love you too, Teddy."

At two years old I don't think he full understands what Mia moving to France means. I've shown him the distance between the United States and France on the globe in our library, but it is still a vast concept for him to full grasp.

"Mia, go to Fance," he tells her with a matter of fact look on his face.

She forces a smile and I see the tears welling up in her eyes. Through her smile she fights them back. "Yes, I am going to France. But I'll be back for Thanksgiving and you are coming to see me for Christmas. Santa Claus will find you in France and bring you delicious French chocolates."

My son's eyes light up as bright as the lights on a Christmas tree. I think the mention of French chocolates is the cause for his delight. He claps his hands and grins. Mia kisses him again, then she kisses her fingers and presses them lightly to Phoebe's cheek. She's sleeping in my arms.

Teddy wriggles down and folds his body against Grace's legs. She picks him up but talks to her daughter. "You'll call us the minute you land?"

"Yes, Mom. I promise." Mia leans in and kisses her mother's cheek.

Grace is smiling, but much like the barely hidden sadness in Christian's eyes, I can see how much she's going to miss her daughter in her eyes too. "Good."

Ethan steps forward to take his wife's hand. Christian is coming towards us now and I think they're ready to take off. I watch Ethan bring Mia's hand to his lips for a kiss. My heart aches knowing how long they are going to be apart. A few weeks can feel like an eternity when you're without the one you love.

"All set." Christian is standing in front of us, and the crew is boarding the plane behind him. I see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows back threatening tears.

"I'll be home for Thanksgiving." Mia touches his arms, which he has folded protectively in front of his chest.

"And we'll be there for Christmas." For a millisecond he smiles and it's an authentic smile. He gives me a sideways glance and I know he's telling me how much he loved my surprise idea of going to Nice for the holidays.

Yes, spending Phoebe's first Christmas in our home would have been lovely, but sometimes plans shift and change. This is a pleasant change and it gives us all the chance to be together. The plan became even better when Elliot, Kate, Ava, and The Kavanaghs decided to join us.

There are hugs and kisses all around. No tears are shed, not on the tarmac anyway. I'm sure there will be a few behind closed doors and in private spaces. In the SUV we drive away, leaving the plane's behind us, which will be taking Mia and many of her belongings across the Atlantic Ocean. Far away from us.

Back on I-5 Grace and Carrick's vehicle parts away from ours, as they head home. Christian runs his thumb absentmindedly over the leather of the steering wheel. He's quiet and I know his mind is busy. He's withdrawn into his thoughts. I turn the volume up and the hauntingly sweet voice of a woman fills the SUV. Teddy and Phoebe both have fallen asleep in their car seats. Leaving my contemplative husband and me to be enchanted by the music.

"I like that," he says not taking his eyes off the road.

"Me too." I settle back in my seat and slip my pale pink ballet flats off. Discarding them to the floor board I draw my feet up under my body. I'm finally wearing a pair of knit gray leggings that are not maternity pants and pink shirt dress that matches my shoes. Yes leggings have extra give in the waist, but they are not maternity pants.

At three and half weeks postpartum I am beginning to see some sort of semblance of my pre pregnancy body. I'm not exactly ready for tight blue jeans yet, but I am feeling more and more like myself every day. Considering how not like myself I felt after having Phoebe, I am happy to be more 'Ana' now. As I say these thoughts in my own head, I'm not sure if they would make sense to anyone else, but to me they do make sense. I don't have to explain my personal thoughts to anyone anyways, because they are mine and I'm not sharing them aloud.

Christian switches lanes in traffic. He leaves one hand to rest near the shift. I place my left hand on top of it. He curls his fingers my hand. "I already miss her and she's barely in the sky by now." He glances over at me for a second and then laughs. It's not a joyous laugh. "We were apart when I was at Harvard and then when she was in Paris for her school."

I turn my head sideways, resting my cheek against the headrest. I watch him. His profile, his jaw is set in a hard line, and there's a sadness to the curve of his lips. "Those were times with definite ends. This is permanent. That's why this is different." Even as I say the words I know he already knows what I'm telling him. "It is okay to miss her, Christian."

"I knew she was leaving in two weeks."

"Doesn't make it any easier now that it's happened."

He blows out a breath. "No, it doesn't."

"Promise me something?"

He slows to exit off of the interstate. We come to stop at the red light at the end of the off ramp. He gives me his eyes. "Ok…." He says warily.

"Promise me that you'll be sad when you want to be, and promise me that you let me hold you when you are?" He should not bottle any of these melancholy emotions up inside. They will only fester into a tumultuous storm. He doesn't see Flynn as often as he once did. There hasn't been much of a cause for it. Flynn all but dismissed him from his sessions, but this turn of events could easily warrant the need for a few appointments. If he doesn't deal with his feelings head on. I'm hoping he will face them, embrace them, talk with me about them, and move in the direction of the light.

The stop lights hanging above us reflect their red light in the puddles on the now wet pavement. A light rain showers down outside. The beads of water run down our windshield, and Christian flips the wipers on.

His gray eyes, a darker shade than before, shine with tears. They don't fall though. "You have my word."

The reflecting light on the street flips to green as the light turns for us to go. I smile and go for a little change of subject, hoping to make him smile for now. "I can write another installment in our story."

My attempt works and I see his lips spread into a sweet smile. "Oh, baby…you know I would like that. Although I may become frail and ailing in my masculine health again."

"I think I have the perfect antidote for whatever affliction you may suffer from due to the content of my emails."

"I guarantee you possess a panacea made only for me."

"Only for you." I echo his words back to him. "And for the record, the emails…" I start and then trail off, searching for the right words. "It's one of the most erotic things I've ever done with you. You're seducing my mind, Mr. Grey. Writing love letters is a lost art, and when I read your email and write mine to you, that's what they remind me of."

His grin is even broader. He's pleased. He should be pleased. "Very dirty love letters."

"With you I wouldn't want any other kind of love letter." It's who we are. The physical side of our relationship is something we both depend on and revel in. Besides, our emails of _our story_ is proving to be one hell of a way to get through my six week postpartum dry spell. Through the tandem writing of our erotic story Christian has helped me feel reassured in my desirability to him. How can that be bad in any way?

Christian lifts our joined hands and tilts them in a way that my pinkie finger is at his lips. He kisses the tip of it and then sucks it gently. I feel the sensation in my middle. This is his promise to continue to seduce me and sweep me off my feet. _Oh, Mr. Grey…I've been floating since I first met you, but then you already know that._

He leads our hands to rest between us once more, and with what seems like hardly any effort at all, he drives the rest of the way home with one hand on the wheel. With our sleeping children tucked in their seats safely behind us, I close my eyes. Seeing Mia off was sad, but November and December hold the promise of reunion. Nothing is permanent. Life is one big myriad of fluid events. I know from experiences that some of those events can be sad and unpleasant, but the good always outweighs the bad. Our life together is the same. The good outweighs the bad. Our family and the love we share, those two things are an overabundance of good. And those two things will see Christian through this time of sadness. I have complete faith in him.


	28. Chapter 28

New chapter! For those of you who don't know, I posted a Christmas story last week. I will be posting a New Year's story this week.

 **CHRISTIAN TAKES OUR SLEEPING** toddler in the house, and I carry our sleeping daughter. Glancing at the clock on the wall as I pass through the foyer, I know she will be waking to nurse soon.

With Teddy collapsed on his shoulder Christian whispers around him, "Taylor will see to taking our things from the car. I'm going to lay him down."

I nod and smile. Phoebe, as if she can hear my thoughts, stretches her little arms out and opens her mouth in a yawn. No putting her down in her bassinette. She is awake and will soon make her desire to be fed known to the world if I don't nurse her. I part ways with Christian and go to the kitchen. Ms. Windham is there, cleaning the stove and Gail is behind her working at the counter. Cutting vegetables and chicken for dinner, I think.

"Did Mr. Grey's sister get off safely?" Gail stops chopping and looks up at me, resting the knife on the cutting board.

"She did, now we wait to hear from here when she arrives in France."

"I'm sure it will be a trip without incident. Do you need me to get you anything?"

"Water and a snack?" The first fuss of a cry comes from my no longer sleeping baby girl.

"Go and sit down with her, I'll be right in with it."

"I'll be in the family room."

 **A PEEP OF SUNSHINE** finds its way through the window behind me, and streams across Phoebe's face. I prop a gray throw pillow between my lap and her little body, then help her to find her goal. She grunts her satisfaction. Her long, thin, fingers reach up to knead the rose colored skin around my nipple. She's meticulous and determined, taking long draws of milk into her mouth. I run my fingers over her cheeks and around her chin.

"There's my girl." I say softly and smile at her. Her blue eyes, so blue like mine, blink up at me and fixate on my face. "Your daddy is going to miss his baby sister so much." In this quiet space I can talk things out with Phoebe. She's more interested in filling her tummy with milk, but she does love the sound of my voice. "He loves her just like your brother loves you. Teddy loves you so much." She widens her eyes and grasps at my skin. I touch her hand with one finger and she manipulates her fingers to hold mine.

A cloud passes over the sun and she closes her eyes. When it is gone and the sun's ray's return she opens them again. "Do you like the warm sunshine, Phoebe Rose?" Artfully I attempt to reach for the bottle of water Gail has left for me, and I open it using one hand and my mouth. If I disturb her in the slightest bit she will have no qualms about letting me know it. I take a drink and place it back on the small table, then take a few pieces of dried fruit from the bowl. A movement on the other side of the room catches my eye, and I smile.

"How did I not hear you?"

He puts the camera down on the back of the sofa. "I turned off the shutter sound."

"Very crafty."

"I thought so. It allowed me to get what a wanted."

"And what was that?"

"A picture of you nursing our daughter, with the sunlight streaming down over both of you."

"Just a picture?"

"I may or may not have taken several pictures."

I lower my face closer to Phoebe's. "Daddy took several pictures of us," I whisper to her.

Christian sits at my feet. He lifts his hand and gracefully runs his fingers over my exposed skin. His artful tracing continues down to lovingly caress the face of our daughter. "Because you are beautiful girls. My beautiful girls." I see the lingering sentiment of how much he misses Mia, behind his eyes.

Like the delicate touches he is showering Phoebe and me with, I touch the top of his head. Letting my fingers brush through his copper curls. I love his hair. It falls as softly between my fingers as I knew it would. "What are you going to do with the pictures?"

"Put them in her baby book. Frame one for my desk here at home."

"I'd like to have portraits done of her."

The thought brings Jose to mind. I haven't thought of him much until now. Life has not offered me the opportunity, and truthfully the desire to think about him hasn't be there. I wonder what he's doing. I wonder if he's found what he's looking for, and if he's been able to move past me. My last thought sounds shallow and self-absorbed. I shouldn't have thought it, but how can I not? We did not part on the best of terms. They were amicable. It was impossible them to be anything else. Jose wanted me and made it known in a very unwelcome manner.

"Of her and Teddy. Of her and you." He's still watching our daughter nurse. Then he says something I am not expecting. "I'm sorry your friend won't be the one to take the pictures." He's not being crass when he says it. There is actual remorse in his words.

"I wish things had gone differently with Jose."

Now I see a hint of sarcastic Christian. "He does too." I give him a scolding look. "That was rude of me, I'm sorry. I'm sorry you lost your friend, baby." The kindness is back and I smile softly at him.

"Me too, but that was his choice."

We've been down this road so many times. There's no need to rehash it, but talking about it like this feels good. It's rational and level headed. Christian and I have gotten good at this, talking through things in our marriage. I keep the notion to myself, but inside I am beaming with pride at how far we have come.

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Portraits of love

 **Date:** August 13 2014 10:07

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Baby,

I made some calls in between meetings today and have booked an appointment with a notable Seattle photographer. The appointment is this Saturday at 10 o'clock in the morning.

I have also noticed an appointment on our family calendar, which I was not aware of. On Friday, August 29th there is an activity listed as: Playgroup. What is this?

Christian Grey

CEO Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 **From:** Anastasia Grey

 **Subject:** Portraits and playdates

 **Date:** August 13 2014 10:49

 **To:** Christian Grey

Husband,

I love it when you call me, baby. Saturday for the portraits works well for me, but then what else do I have going on? I am at our children's beckon call and I am loving every minute of it.

The playdate is with Kate and Ava's playgroup. I'm planning to take Teddy. We've gone once before, if you remember. He enjoyed himself. When I put it on the calendar originally I wasn't sure I would be able to go, but since our daughter made an early appearance it is doable.

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Playdates have germs

 **Date:** August 13 2014 11:31

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Baby,

I love it when you call me, husband.

Phoebe will not be 6 weeks old by the 29th, and I am not sure it is a good idea to take her on a playdate with other children.

You have no idea how happy I am to hear how please you are with being at home. It puts ideas into a man's head, Anastasia. Barefoot and pregnant…

I'm meeting Flynn for lunch. I will have my phone on me, as always.

Christian Grey

Cautious father & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 **From:** Anastasia Grey

 **Subject:** An idea

 **Date:** August 13 2014 12:45

 **To:** Christian Grey

Husband,

I really would like for Ted to go on the playdate. He so enjoyed the last one. Phoebe will be only days away from being 6 weeks old by then. (Counting down to the 6 week mark.) But you may be right about waiting a while. Perhaps you could take Ted to his playdate?

Not barefoot and pregnant…yet. Remember how long this 6 week wait has been? I may be on your same line of thinking though, just don't get too excited yet. I'm still working things out in my mind.

I hope you're enjoying lunch with Flynn.

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

 **Christian's POV**

I nearly choke on my damn sandwich. Choking down the bite I swallow roughly and reach for my glass of water. My face must be as red as an apple right now. _Me? Me, at a playdate with mothers, babies, and toddlers? Anastasia you have got to be kidding me!_ I scroll through my phone and close my email program. I won't respond to her because I don't have time, and I don't know what to say.

"Sorry," I grunt out the word around the frog in my throat.

"Is everything alright with Ana and the children?"

I'm looking off into space, or at least I must be, because I barely hear three words of Flynn's question. "Pardon?"

He looks at me sternly and then down at my phone resting on the white table cloth. "You said you had to check the email because it was from Ana. Is everything alright?" Flynn could get a guilty man to admit his crimes even after he'd been declared innocent by a grand jury.

"Yes, everything is fine. She wants me to take Ted to a playdate."

Flynn nods and eats some of his lunch. I'm still sitting dumb stricken by Ana's email when he speaks again. "Does he not enjoy the playdates?"

"She says he does." He likes playing with other children at the park. If I don't take him, or let Ana take him, then he'll miss out. _Let Ana take him? Like you have ever "let" her do anything. You lost that control on day one, Grey. She's her own woman and she's proven that to you more times than you can count._

"What's the problem then?"

"Germs."

The man laughs at me. He actually laughs at me. I press my lips into a firm line. "All children have germs, Christian. Adults have them too."

"Yes, thank you, doctor. I am aware of that."

"Then come now, Christian. What is the issue with take your son on his playdate?"

Is he really trying to break me apart on a lunch date? I came to lunch with him as a friend and the man is counseling me. _Maybe you should listen to him._ Sometimes I loathe the cogent part of my brain. Is it just me or is this restaurant suddenly quiet? It's like the entire room is waiting for my answer. When I look up from staring at the silverware I see that no one is paying attention to my table. They are all absorbed in their own conversation and lunch time rush.

"Nothing, I guess."

"No issues?"

"I wouldn't know what to do."

"Christian, I have seen you with your son. You are a fine father. You should not worry about others judging you. Your son loves you and I would be willing to say he would love having you take him."

There he is, John _Puts Everything in Perspective_ Flynn. How does he do it? I think Teddy would like for me to take him. The image of him smiling and swinging my hand with his little one makes me smile. I know I'm smiling because John is smiling. He knows his made an impact on me, again. Well done, Flynn.


	29. Chapter 29

For those of you who might not know, I did not write a New Year's Eve story like I had planned too. My grandma came into town, after a delayed arrival due to some difficulties from her pacemaker surgery, and I wanted to spend as much time with her as I could while I was out of work on winter break. I hope you all can forgive me for not writing the story like I told you I would. I feel bad for going back on my word, but I wanted to be with her. I hope to give you a good Valentines story :)

I hope you all have a happy new year!

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Hazmat suits for adults & toddlers

 **Date:** August 13 2014 13:20

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Anastasia,

It is with great reluctance that I accept your suggestion to take our son to his play date. I will be purchasing cases of, and investing in stock in, Germ-X to prepare for the mucous clad ankle biters.

Christian Grey

 **OVERLY** cautious father  & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 **SHE'S GOING TO LAUGH** at me, I think to myself as I click on the send button. I am positive I will receive an earful about Teddy having germs too. Imagining her smiling and sassing me with that little smart mouth of hers makes me smile. It also makes my palm twitch. Fucking six weeks.

I click on the calendar icon and it pops up on my desktop. Highlighted in red is the date of Anastasia's appointment. The days are passing by, but they are not passing by quickly enough. She's tried to coerce me a few times into breaking the rules. She entices me when she does too, and I've nearly caved to her ways. Remembering how she felt about her body a few short weeks ago makes it hard to be a strong man now that she has her confidence back, but I'm not giving in. We are waiting for Dr. Greene's go ahead to resume sexual activity. I can't blame her for trying. She's been creative in her not so subtle attempts to ravish me. If I were her I wouldn't want to wait to have sex with me either, because Christ do I have plans for that delectable little body of hers.

My desk phone rings, and I unwillingly pull my mind from all thoughts of my wife to answer it. Andrea brings me back to the here and now with a complaint from HR about something in their email system. _Why the hell are they calling me and not Barney?_ "Yes, Andrea. I'm taking care of it now." I hang up with her and call Barney for them, all the while remembering the name of the person reporting the problem who couldn't call him first. I need to get my mind off of sex with Ana, or maybe she would be interested in a repeat anniversary performance…Christ not being with her is making me ornery.

 **ON MY RARE DRIVE** home alone, Taylor is off for the week to be with Sophie, I have time to reflect on my day. The sun is shining, the traffic is unusually light, and something underneath the hood of my car is begging me to give it a little more push than what is normal on the commute home. Life. I smile to myself, alone in the car, and think that life is what is calling to me. What could be more perfect than what I am driving home too? My beautiful Ana and our two beautiful children are there waiting for me. I careen up I-5, trees blurring past me on both sides. Cars are perhaps attempting to keep up with me, but they are no match for what my R8 can do. I shift and let my foot off the clutch, giving my mind free reign to drift to what will be waiting for me when I get home.

Teddy will call out to me the second he hears the front door open. Ana will be following at his heels and our daughter will be there in her arms. I glance to my right to see the time. She should be nursing, having her mother's milk for dinner, when I arrive. Her blue eyes will be fixed on Ana's. Mirroring powder blue pools. Clear and distinct, they both miss nothing with their blue eyes. Her blonde hair, still faint wisps of newborn locks, crown her head like a halo crowns an angel.

I'll bend down and lift my son in my arms. His small hands will touch my face and he will cover me in his Teddy kisses. I will hug his little body to mine and, like Ana does, I will breathe in his toddler scent. I will breathe it in because time is a fleeting thing. He will only be the age he is for so long. Before Ana, before our babies, every day was only a day. A sunrise followed by a sunset. Work to be done and hours to get through. Now I can't get enough of those hours. I hold onto every one of them, because once they are gone I know I'll never be able to get them back.

 **THE THREE MOST IMPORTANT** pieces of my life are waiting for me, just as I knew they would be, when I step through the front door. I entertain how a picture of this moment would depict a typical family life. I have the good humor to laugh at myself inside. Even I can see the irony of how clichéd this scenario. Father comes home. Wife and children are there to greet him. It's reminds me of one of those black and white television shoes Grandma Trevelyan would put on when Elliot and I were over to visit. Elliot never paid much mind to them. He always had something more important to build or knock down and destroy. But not me, I could sit for hours and watch a fabricated depiction of what an all-American family should really be.

What's even funnier is that I haven't recalled those memories for some time now. I've kept them locked away in the shadows of my mind. There was never a need to bring them back to the forefront. Certainly the lifestyle I live is not an exact replica of how the Cleaver's lived, but the correlation between their family life and mine is not lost on me. It's not as black and white, forgive the pun, but it is…Teddy is running into my arms and I am catching him…it is what it is. It is perfect.

"You look deep in thought." Ana observes my far off expression.

I give her a grin and accept the kisses my son is giving me. "Not really. I was soaking in the here and now." My reminiscences of days past at my grandparent's house fade away.

She smiles a cheeky smile. "And does the here and now require any hazmat attire?" She's referring to my earlier email, the one she didn't respond to, and she's mocking me. Smart mouthed woman that she is. My smart mouthed woman.

My son's bright gray eyes smile at me. "Daddy!" He throws his arms around my neck and I cuddle his little body to my chest.

"Are you making fun of me, Mrs. Grey?" I rub my palm over my son's t shirt covered back.

"I wouldn't' dream of it, Mr. Grey."

"Mommy," Teddy turns to Ana. He's still in my arms. "Mommy," he points a finger to my chest, "Daddy, not Mister Gey."

Ana busts out laughing. It takes me a second to catch on. She's covering her mouth with her hand and I know her mind is exactly where mine is. It's back in my office during our first meeting years ago when she interviewed me. "No, you're right, Teddy. That is your daddy. Mister _Gey_ he most definitely is not."

Our son wriggles down from my arms, happy with the fact that he is correct about something. He leaves us to go back to whatever it was that he was doing before I walked in the door. I turn my attention to my daughter. She is where I knew she would be, having her dinner. I touch her cheek and then skim my fingers up Ana's breast, darting my eyes to the side to make sure we are alone.

"I think you are making fun of me, Mrs. Grey, and I think you do it often."

She tries to fight back a smile. "Mr. Gey," she starts out, still enjoying Teddy's mispronunciation at my expense.

"I'll give you _Mr. Gey_ ," I growl at her and cover her lips with mine in a soft kiss. It takes her by surprise and she puts her hand on my bicep.

"Don't knock me off balance when I'm nursing, Phoebe." She had no danger of falling, she's merely toying with me. I did take her breath way though, she just a little but still. She's working to calm her breathing.

"I'll catch you both." I nip at her lips again and she smiles.

"Teddy has had a cold before, I really don't think you should be too concerned about germs at his playdate."

"True," I tilt my head to the side weighing the validity of her words. "I'm still bringing all of the necessities."

"And by that you mean enough hand sanitizer to cover every pair of hands in the city of Seattle." Oh, that little smart mouth. Always testing me.

"Possibly," I'll give her this, she does have a point. A very good point and a very accurate one too.

"You're impossible." She's not frustrated with me in the slightest, but she's trying her best to pretend like she is. It's adorable. I want to kiss her crinkled little button nose.

"But you love me."

"That I do, Mr. Grey."

"No more, Mr. Gey?"

"Oh, Mr. Grey, I've know every detail of your sexual orientation for some time now. That was only to tease you, but I wouldn't like a reorientation with everything sexual about you in a few weeks."

"You've got a date. Consider it done."

"Good." She's still smiling from ear to ear. Her blue gaze is alight with fun and amusement.

Staying at home with our children agrees with her. I only wonder if she will agree with me on that subject, and if I should broach it again with her. I have been met with her vehement disagreement about her possibly staying at home in the past. With Phoebe things have been different. She has yet to talk about going back to work. She's still smiling at me. I tuck a stray strand of chestnut hair behind her left ear, deciding to leave the subject alone for now.

"Has Ms. Windham prepared dinner?"

Now she's beaming. "No, she took care of the housework today. I told her that I wanted to cook."

Caring for our children, and she cooked dinner? "What did you make?"

She winks at me, "Stir fry."

If there is a pint of Ben & Jerry's in the refrigerator all bets are off. Sorry, Dr. Greene, I couldn't wait. I will write a formal letter of apology and a confession of my sins against obstetrics if I have to.

"Lead the way, Mrs. Grey." I sweep my arm out and bow for her to go in front of me. I want to watch her ass as she walks. Horny as fuck? Oh yes. My wife has taken care of our children and she has cooked dinner. Anastasia Rose Grey knows how to please me in every sense of the word, and she does it so very well.


	30. Chapter 30

**Ana's POV**

 ******************Dear READER Dolores Howee, with you logged in as a guest I have not been able to message you. Thank you so much for reading my stories. I hope you don't mind my tactic at trying to reach out to you, this is the only way I know how, and I hope you haven't read this chapter yet. I love your reviews. Thank you for taking the time to write them. You asked if I had written a story about Christian cheating on Ana, no. I have never and would never write anything like that. I do not believe with an ounce of my being that he would ever do that. I love their love and I cherish writing it. :) You also mentioned that you could not find my short stories, if you click on my username here on the site you will see a complete list of all of my stories. Please email me at newgirl3366 at gmail dot com or follow me on twitter or create a login here to pm me at if you have any other question. Thank you so much for your sweet words, I love them each time I read them.*************

Panty melting, contagious, radiating with good humor, these are just a few of the ways I could describe Christian's demeanor. His mood is mostly all of these things lately. The contrast between the Christian who exists in my life now and the Christian I first met is a stark one. The man he has evolved into is a like a portrayal of night and day done in the most vivid colors of paint. There are not so many shades of color any more, and they are not as gray as they once were.

Over the top of my iPad I catch him watching me. Our little girl, wearing a sweet gummy smile, is looking up at him from where she rests on his lap. Teddy plays close by engaged in a puzzle he is building, of all things, a truck out of the pieces scattered around him. Christian mouths the words, "I love you," to me. I mouth them back and his smile broadens.

I let my iPad fall to my lap. The manuscript I have been reading during baby and toddler nap times this week is another promising one. Even though I gave Hannah the go ahead to do what she saw fit with Aaron's she still emails me with updates. After signing him on with the publishing company she was given second manuscript by him. This one, for the half I have managed to read, is even better than the last. He may very well top Boyce Fox's sales.

Teddy finishes his puzzle and brings it over to show Christian. He's proud of his accomplishment, as he should be. My bright little boy. Ever since Christian brought home a box of multiple wooden puzzles for him on Monday he has been busy with them. He cannot get enough of them. He takes them apart and puts them back together nonstop.

"Daddy, my tuck is big. It tarries dirt."

"What does it do with the dirt?" Christian engages him in a question and answer session about his puzzle. I listen intently to their exchange.

"Big pies!" Teddy puts the puzzle down and rounds his arms into as big of a circle as he can. I think he's simulating a pile of dirt.

They finish their short, yet detailed conversation, about Teddy's dump truck puzzle and he moves on to do one more puzzle before bedtime. The clock on my iPad warns that bath time is soon. Phoebe will want to nurse again before her bath, and then if tonight is like last night she'll want another nursing session immediately following her bath. I think my baby girl could be going through her first growth spurt. Nursing and napping have been very high on her list of priorities over the past two days. I know that sounds silly considering that's what all babies her age do, but she's been particularly demanding about how often she wants to eat.

"You were intent on what you were reading." Christian lifts Phoebe into his arms. He's talking to me but smiling at her. I see her give him a smile back.

I swipe my finger over the screen to close the manuscript. I'm done with it for tonight. "It's the second Aaron's manuscript that Hannah sent me."

"Any good?"

I don't have to think before answering his question. Good is not a strong enough word to describe Travis Aaron's manuscripts. "It is captivating. He's talented at drawing readers in from the first word and keeping them with him throughout the entire story. I never lose interest in reading every single word."

Christian tickles Phoebe under her chin, earning another grin from her. She gives all of her smiles to her daddy. "What does he write? And don't tell me books, Mrs. Grey."

My eyes flick over to Teddy to see if he heard how Christian addressed me. Obviously he did not and is absorbed in his puzzles, or we would have heard some commentary from him. "I would call them romance with mystery and some suspense thrown in."

"Such a clear description from an editor."

"Are you questioning my job skills, Mr. Grey?" I raise an eyebrow at him, stealing one of his signature moves.

"Never. I love how you work. I love your mind." I give him a shy smile and look down at my iPad. "Ana?"

"Yes?"

There is something behind his eyes, just on the edge of his expression, but I cannot grasp it. He has words he wants to say to me, but it seems like he cannot find the way to put them. In her daddy's arms Phoebe lets out a hungry cry. She's rooting against his white linen shirt and putting her fist to her mouth.

"She's hungry," he says quickly like that was what he was about to say to me. I know it's not. He's covering something up. He had another thought he was wanting to express to me, but he held it back.

I take my hungry girl into my arms and help her find what she wants right away. Teddy is still finishing up his puzzle, he's not interested in anything else as of right now. Christian sits back down on the floor and the way he's watching me tells me so much. While I may not know exactly what is going through his mind, he's still my mercurial Christian every now and then, I can see the reverence in his eyes. He always has a euphoric and serene gaze when he sees me caring for our children.

My attention is drawn away momentarily. Outside thunder rumbles far off in the distance, and a few drops of rain pelt against the windows. Lightening dimly illuminates the outlines of the clouds hanging over the sound. Without its strike of incandescence, I would not have even known they were there hanging in the dark Washington night sky. A thunderstorm is approaching, just like the night our Phoebe was born. Hopefully this one is not packing the punch that one was.

Another low boom catches Ted's attention. "Tunder, Mommy?" He questions me.

"It's just a thunderstorm. You're safe." I reassure my little man. "It's only noise."

He picks up his puzzle and scoots closer to Christian, needing the comfort that closeness to his father provides. Christian puts a hand on Teddy's back and rubs him soothingly. He repeats my words to our son, and I can see Teddy relax. He goes back to his work, manipulating the pieces, turning and flipping them until they fit in their spots. Christian and I watch him in the quiet. I think we are both appreciating the way his young mind is working. Phoebe kneads my skin with her fingers, urging my milk to flow for her. I break my stare from watching Teddy to look down at her and smile. I touch her cheek and she continues her sweet baby massage.

"Christian."

"Yes?"

"What were you going to say before?"

"Before?"

"Before Phoebe wanted to nurse…" I prompt him with an open ended statement. _Fill in the blank for me, Christian. I know something is dancing about in your mind. Share it with me._

He diverts his eyes to our son and then brings them back to me. "Phoebe was three weeks old yesterday." I nod, just listening as he works his thoughts into words.

I'm patient with him. The man he has grown to be talks with me, and I know that is something that did not come easily or naturally to him before. I try never to take his communication with me for granted. I am aware of how much he has worked at it.

"You haven't said anything about going back to work."

I think my eyes widen. Has he read my dreams? Is that even possible? My mind involuntarily runs back over the past three weeks, lingering especially on today. There are still three more weeks left until Phoebe is six weeks old, but I don't need three more weeks to mull over my feelings. I am concrete in my decision, and that fact surprises me more than I thought it would.

"I do not want to quit working," I begin and I see his face fall slightly, "but I do want to work out a compromise." Now his face lights up. I continue to verbalize my intentions. "I want to work from home, part time. I've thought about this a good deal. I never thought in a million years I would want this but I do. Hannah is there, and I can still go in for certain things, but I want to be at home with Teddy and Phoebe."

"Ana…" He whispers my name in wonder.

"I'm not giving up my career." I enforce my determination with the tone in my voice. My work is so very important to me, but time with my young children is fleeting. "I am shifting my priorities." Yes, that is it. Those few simple words sum up everything I have been trying to explain to myself. My subconscious looks on from her desk with pride. _You can balance work and your family. You're doing it._

Christian glance to Ted and then he is on his feet. He comes to kneel in front of me and takes my face in his hands. "Is this what you truly want? I don't want you to do this if you don't want to." His gray eyes are fierce with resolve.

My smile stretches wide enough to touch his thumbs. "I am certain. I want to be here with our babies. I want to work from home." Compromise. How long will I do this? There are so many questions to ask and find answers to, but all of those can wait. This is enough for now.

His mouth covers mine. His warm lips and the stubble from his five o'clock shadow touch me. He is appreciating me with his kiss. I feel his fingertips press into my cheeks with soft pressure. His tongue flicks against mine and I have to keep myself in check. _A sweet kiss. Keep this to a sweet kiss, Ana._ Christian, sensing how much we are both feeling, brings the kiss back down himself. We have to practice self-control, for now.

When Christian looks back into my eyes there is so much love reflecting between the two of us. It is nearly overwhelming to experience. "I don't know what to say, Ana. You take my breath away."

I reach my hand up and place it against his cheek, feeling his whiskers tickle me. I allow myself to caress the copper colored stubble. "I'm so happy." I speak three words, because they are all I can find and truthfully they are all I need.

"Daddy…Mommy…"

My sweet two year old happiness draw Christian and I out of our private moment.

"Me want my baff." He yawns and rubs his tired eyes.

Outside the sky is dark once more. I think the storm passed to the north, never giving us anything more than some faint noise, bright light, and a few rain drops.

"Yes, Teddy bear. It's bath time." I guide Phoebe as she releases my nipple. She'll want to nurse again before bed.

"I'll start his bath while you burp her." Christian lifts our son in his arms. The magic of our moments together has shifted to include magical moments of us with our two children. Our family. This is our life now. Our more.


	31. Chapter 31

Thank you for your patience while waiting for this chapter. I will be travelling for work at the end of this week, so I'm not sure how much writing time I will have, but please know that I am still here! :)

 **From:** Anastasia Grey

 **Subject:** Your playdate

 **Date:** August 15 2014 10:12

 **To:** Christian Grey

Mr. Grey,

I spoke with Kate this morning and informed her that you would be accompanying Ted to the upcoming playdate.

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Jeez, thanks

 **Date:** August 15 2014 10:24

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Grey,

Exactly how many mothers will be there with their little mucous clad…errrm…adorable little children?

Christian Grey

Rolling Eyes & Not a Piece of Mommy Meat CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 **From:** Anastasia Grey

 **Subject:** What kind of meat?

 **Date:** August 15 2014 10:58

 **To:** Christian Grey

Mr. Grey,

I nearly spat milk out of my nose. Would you kindly enlighten me as to what 'Mommy Meat' is? It sounds positively morbid. By the way, Kate is happy that you are coming.

There are fifteen other children in the playgroup. All ranging from Ava's age to Ted's age and maybe a little older.

And, did you just roll your eyes at me, Sir?

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Happy to make fun of me

 **Date:** August 15 2014 11:15

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Grey,

Your best friend and my sister-in-law will enjoy chiding me for being at a playgroup meet up with other mothers. I am assuming there will be little too few fathers there?

Mommy Meat: _adjective_. A man being ogled by mothers and housewives for his good looks.

P.S. I did indeed roll my eyes at you, and I'm doing it again for good measure.

Christian Grey

Call me Webster CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 **From:** Anastasia Grey

 **Subject:** I'd rather call you sexy than Webster

 **Date:** August 15 2014 11:59

 **To:** Christian Grey

Mr. Grey,

I will never call you Webster, although making up your own new vocabulary term was very creative. I do not believe that it is dictionary worthy, however. All of the ladies in the playgroup are happily married. I think you are safe from ogling.

As for the eye rolling, I am having all sorts of creative thoughts on how I can attempt to curb you of that nasty habit.

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Mrs. Sexy Grey

 **Date:** August 15 2014 12:24

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Sexy,

You sound better being called sexy than I do.

P.S. I do believe we have both been trying to curb one another of the nasty habit of eye rolling for some time now. I also believe that a cure has never been found, but I have enjoyed the medical research.

Christian Grey

Head Sexual Lab Technician & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 ** _YOU ARE SO SEXY,_** _Mr. Grey, but being called sexy by you makes me feel ten feet tall._ During one of my toddler and infant naptime breaks, I read back through the mornings emails with Christian. I smile the same as I did when I first read them. Email sparring with Christian is one of my favorite pastimes. I consider emailing him back, but checking the time I remember him saying something about an important meeting this afternoon. Not wanting to interrupt him, I decide to hold off. Instead I read over correspondences for work.

There is a monthly meeting with finance coming up, and the beginning of the fiscal year wrap up is starting. I should be present for both of those. The monthly meeting is next week, the other isn't until have my six week maternity leave officially ends. I could make the one next week and take Phoebe with me. Four weeks postpartum and going to a monthly finance meeting, I am not sure Christian will be thrilled. On the other hand, my choice to work from home for an undetermined amount of time might soften the idea.

I respond to Hannah and Claire, letting them both know that I plan to be in attendance for both meetings. Claire's response is almost immediate. She is dying to meeting my little Phoebe Rose Grey. I think I'll keep my news of my extended maternity leave to myself until I go in to work. I'd rather talk to Hannah about it in person. In the silence of my office I mull over how long I intend to work from home. Time is not something I have given much thought to. I only acted in the here and now. In this moment I know that three more weeks at home with my babies is not enough. How much time will I want?

A thought I am not anticipating wheedles its way into my mind. _You may extend your time at home for other babies._ A voice, my subconscious definitely, but in a much more elusive tone than she usually uses cajoles me with the notion. I have a three week old. Where in the heck did that come from? Christian and I have talked about more children. I told him at least one more when I was pregnant with Phoebe, but when would be the right time? _Not now, of course…but soon._ My subconscious is whispering to me again. My fingers freeze atop the keyboard. My life is evolving and changing again. Everyone's life does. Who am I to think that my life should be any different?

With my fingers resting on the home keys, I know that I never expected my life not to change. It began changing the minute I stumbled in Christian's office, from that day forward nothing was ever the same again in my world. It has continued to evolve as our love, our marriage, our relationship, and our family has grown. I always knew I wanted to be a mother someday, but never in a million years did I think that dream would be handed to me in the manner that it has been. Being the mother of Christian's children, being his wife, the love of his life, and loving him with every ounce of my being is extraordinary.

My subconscious whispers to me again. _You have time, a decision does not have to be made today or tomorrow._ She's right, again. She enjoys being right. Our family will grow when it is meant to. When I was in the throes of my teenage years, when everything seems harder than it is. Ray would tell me, "Annie, life has a way of turning out the way it should." My daddy is a man of few words, but when he talks I listen. I have always listened to him.

Enough of the deep thoughts for this afternoon. I have a limited amount of time before my two customers are awake again. I finish scanning my inbox and decide to take my iPad to my bedroom. I check in on my sleeping baby girl. Her hands are balled in fists, resting by her head, and she is sound asleep. I curl up on Christian's side of the bed to read.

Before I know it my eyes are drifting shut and I am dropping the iPad to my chest. I am not even aware of when it happens, but sleep takes over and I dream. I dream peaceful dreams of my copper haired little boy chasing his little sister through the meadow. Her hair is longer and it is sandier shade of blonde. It falls in perfect fine baby curls around her shoulders. They are both giggling and laughing, calling out to one another as they play. Trailing behind them in the tall weaving golden grass is a baby boy. He's not much younger than Phoebe. Only about a year old, he's unsteady on his chubby legs. His head is crowned in chestnut brown hair. He points to Teddy and Phoebe, jabbering to them and smiling. His smile is Christian's, but his eyes are mine.

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Checking in

 **Date:** August 15 2014 15:38

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Sexy,

I never received a reply email from you, and I'm sorry I never called you or emailed you myself. My lunch meeting ran over and it was a rousing meeting to say the least. Everyone had differing opinions, but in the end things were accomplished as they should have been. But enough about work. How has your day been? How are our babies?

Christian Grey

Husband who misses his sexy wife and adorable babies & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

My phone chimes and I have to drag myself from my dream. It was a beautiful dream. I keep my eyes closed for a second longer, hoping I can prolong the ethereal vision in my head. The stirring sound of my daughter fussing her way to wakefulness halts that wish, though.

"Mommy is coming, Phoebe." I stretch my limbs and peel back the blanket covering the lower half of my body.

I touch my phone to see the time, it's nearly four in the afternoon. We've all three, Teddy, Phoebe, and me, been asleep longer than we should have been. What else is there for us to do after a morning of play? Nothing. This is life now, and it is everything to me. I also see on my phone that there is a new email from Christian waiting for me. Reading it will have to wait.

She follows my every move as I change her diaper. "Your brother is still sleep. Shall we go wake him?" I lift my Phoebe and she yawns, residual sleepiness leftover from an extended nap. She will want her afternoon snack soon.

The light on my phone still blinks to signal the unchecked message. I glance at it then to my sweet baby girl in my arms. "Daddy is checking on us, I think. Let me answer him then we'll go to your brother." I kiss her cheek and place her gently on the bed. She stretches her arms and legs out as far as she can. I tickle her tummy and reach for my phone.

My face splitting grin cannot be disguised. The way my heart pitters and patters when I read his words, _adorable babies_. Christian Grey. Mr. Big Shot CEO just used the word adorable in an email. _"This is what you do to me."_ Words spoken so long ago come back to me. _Oh, the things you to me, Christian._

 **From:** Anastasia Grey

 **Subject:** Pitter patter

 **Date:** August 15 2014 15:54

 **To:** Christian Grey

Mr. Grey,

What you do to my heart, there are not enough words available in the English language to describe how you make me feel. To put it in elementary terms, you make my heart go pitter patter.

My day has been full of playtime with our babies, emails with you, and an extended nap. Your daughter and I have just woken and are now going to rouse your son from his slumber.

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

 **From:** Christian Grey

 **Subject:** Candy hearts

 **Date:** August 15 2014 14:01

 **To:** Anastasia Grey

Mrs. Grey,

Your elementary description reminds me of messages on candy hearts. I would like to use them on your in a not so elementary way. One heart shaped confection on each pleasurable part of your body to be eaten off by me.

And yes, my mind always drifts to X rated territory when it comes to you.

I am happy to hear how your day has gone. I have missed you and will be leaving early to come home to you and our children.

P.S. When you napped, did you dream of me?

Christian Grey

Not only a Head Lab Tech, but also a Confectionary Artist & CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

 **From:** Anastasia Grey

 **Subject:** Dreams

 **Date:** August 15 2014 14:03

 **To:** Christian Grey

Mr. Grey,

I always dream of you. Right now I am daydreaming of kissing you. I will see you when you arrive. Until then…

Anastasia Grey

CEO Grey Publishing

Elaborating on my dream is not something I wish to do in an email. I close my email out and put my phone back in its place. Phoebe is not thrilled with the brief delay. The monitor is still quiet, so I put her in her wrap and allow her to begin nursing before going to wake Ted. On cue, she latches and Teddy begins calling to me. His bright energetic voice comes to me. "Mommy, me up up!"

I look down at Phoebe, "There he is. Your brother is awake now." I feather my fingers under her chin and she smiles around my nipple. My hungry girl. She happiest when she is eating. "Let's go fetch him." She smiles again but does not stop her suckling. I think she's in agreement with my words, or she's just happy to have warm milk in her tummy.


	32. Chapter 32

I know this chapter is a short one for me, but I wanted to get something posted b/c its been so long since you've all heard from me. Life has been busy. I didn't travel b/c of the snow storm, but BFF, my co teacher, had a minor set back w/ her health and things have been busy with my teacher training. She's doing better now, but any good thoughts that could be spared would be appreciated.

I've also been struggling w/ writing this chapter. I wrote some and then deleted the entire thing. Deciding to move forward in time a bit more than I had originally planned. It just felt right. I hope you all enjoy it.

Phoebe Rose Grey is approaching six weeks old before I am even aware of how much time has passed. It passes by quickly in a blur of feedings, diapers, days spent in the sunshine with Teddy playing nearby, first visits to Grey Publishing and Grey Enterprises, home visits by Grace for her well baby checkups, and more than a few sleepless nights when she has her days and nights mixed up. She is a happy baby with my eyes, her daddy's determination, and the blondest hair I have ever seen. Sometimes when I'm nursing her, or rocking her in my arms, I look down at her and run my fingers lightly over her fine hair.

"Where did this blonde hair come from, baby girl?" I whisper to her. She smiles a gummy grin, as if she knows the answer to my question but is keeping it locked away.

On the screen of my laptop in front of me, I am paging through the proofs the photographer has sent. Knowing Christian I won't have to choose only a few to have printed into portraits. He will purchase every single shot. The one of Ted and me leaning in to kiss Phoebe's toes is my favorite. I allow myself to picture it framed on Christian's desk, because I know it will be there soon.

Image after image, I flip through the digital pages loving the candid moments the photographer was able to capture. When Christian vowed to find the best photographer in the Seattle area he wasn't kidding. Valerie Walls is exceptional in her talent. I think it also helped that my Teddy had her wrapped around his little finger the second she walked through the door.

My quiet reflection of enjoying the pictures of my family is interrupted by a squeal of delight. Teddy rounds the corner and dashes into the bedroom. "Shhhhhh," holding a finger up I remind him to talk and move softly. Phoebe is sleeping in her bassinette for her morning nap.

"Shhhhh," Teddy mimics my movement and sound. He climbs on the bed. "Piters, Mommy?" He clambers over to sit in my lap.

"Yes, I'm looking at our pictures."

"Me, like." He nods his head and focuses his gray eyes on the photograph of Christian tossing him high into the air. I love the expressions on their faces in this one. The pure joy shared between a father and his son.

Teddy is pointing to himself and Christian in the photo, and chattering to me about it. He's dressed for the day. Wearing navy colored cotton shorts, and a navy t shirt with a sailboat on it, he is the cutest little boy I've ever seen. He taps his white sneaker against my leg and rests is face in his hands.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, Teddy bear?"

"Siter go pway day?"

I smile and sweep a curl from his forehead. "No baby, boy. Sister is staying at home with me. Daddy is going to take you on your playdate today, remember?"

As I say this, Christian enters our bedroom. He looks edible in his dark wash denim jeans and gray t shirt. He's still barefoot, and he has a stray copper curl hanging over his forehead just like Teddy had. My finger's itch to brush it away.

"There you are," he says to our little boy.

Teddy scrambles down from my lap and off the bed. As he goes, his foot catches on one of the pillows and drags it off the bed to the floor. "Mommy see piters, Daddy. Siter not go pway day wiff us."

Christian picks the lost pillow up and tosses back to its place at the head of the bed. "Mommy is looking at beautiful pictures." I am paused on one of Teddy curled around my legs while I am holding Phoebe in my arms. Bracing himself on a curled up fist, Christian leans over to kiss the top of my head. "Beautiful," he says staring at the computer screen. "I've ordered them all." I smile knowing that was a given. He turns his attention back to Ted. "Sister is going to stay here with Mommy. She's too little for playdates."

"Go, Daddy?"

"Not yet. We still have some time."

"Me go pway." His feet patter out of the room and down the hall. He is off to make the most out of his morning. Likely that will involve driving one or two trucks down the hall from his room into ours.

With our little man off to amuse himself, for now, Christian sits down on the bed with me. "I don't suppose I could talk him out of this playdate?" He raises a brow at me. I know he's joking, well mostly he is. He is nervous about going. There is no doubt.

I shake my head. "You most certainly could not. He's set on going. I think you'll enjoy yourself. Give it a chance."

"I will be the only man there."

"You don't know that. Maybe Kate has Elliot going."

He gives me a sideways glance. "If my brother went it would only be to make fun of me."

"It would not," I try to shush him, but in reality I know Elliot would have more than a few laughs at his brother's expense.

Christian ignores my poor attempt at defending his brother. "Have you ever seen any fathers there in the past?"

"I've only gone once, Christian."

"You're evading my question. Have you seen any fathers there?"

I turn my head to the side and scratch a nonexistent itch behind my ear. "Ehhh…not really."

He throws his hands up in the air. "Just as I suspected. I will be mommy meat."

I burst out laughing at his choice of words and his overly dramatic antics. "They are all happily married. You will be fine and you will come back unscathed. Besides, the only mommy who will be enjoying your meat is this one right here." I purposely put a suggestive lilt in my voice. Three more days and then I am back in the service of the one and only Mr. Christian Grey. My inner goddess is thrilled. Her calendar is covered in red X's. The countdown is nearly over. Hallelujah.

My breathing halts, as Christian leans closer to me. He takes my earlobe between his teeth and nips it gently. His words are hot against my skin. "So naughty and crude. I like it. Three days, Mrs. Grey." I shudder and blow air out past my lips, trying to maintain my composure. Teddy could come in the room at any second. "Are you counting down?" I whimper and nod my head. He has turned into a complete pile of mush. Tuesday I am going to be a train wreck. Unable to slow down, stop, or pull into the station with any amount of grace and control. "Because I am. Three days and…" he turns his wrist to look down at his watch. "Three and a half hours."

Fuck. Me.


	33. Chapter 33

Thank you all for being patient in my posting. I had hoped for an easier week that would have allowed me to have the mindset and the energy to write. Those of you who follow me on twitter are aware, my best friend and co teacher is having to have bypass surgery this week. Monday will be 6 mos since she had her heart attack. Over the past few weeks the wonderful health she had been having began to decline quickly. I love her more than I will ever find words to say. She is the other half of my heart. If you could all spare some prayers for her and her very young children I would appreciate it. And for all of the prayers given so far, thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

"You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it." ~Margaret Thatcher

On with the chapter.

 ** _Christian's POV_**

A children's playground on a sunny Saturday afternoon. The scene appears to be innocent enough. Small children run here and there, dashing about through, around, and under the different play apparatuses. Raucous laughter rings out among the trees and the clear blue sky. There is only one problem, which wouldn't be a problem if circumstances were different. Women are everywhere. There is not one man on the playground that spans out before me. Surprise is not an emotion in my mental vocabulary at the moment. I knew it would be this way.

 _Teddy wants me to be here. He is excited to play with the other children. I love my son more than I love my own life._ All of these things are true, and the last fact is the reason why I am here. I would do anything for my son, for my daughter, for my Ana, and this proves it. Here goes nothing. An afternoon of being ogled by married women. At least I have Ted with me. I can busy myself playing with him. There are no written rules stating that I have to openly display myself as their mommy meat.

We are spotted by Kate, as we are walking in the open green gate. Teddy sees her waving and hears her calling, "Hello," to him. He looks up at me with eyes that match mine, "Daddy, me go! Me go!" He jumps up and down in his shoes in excitement. Saying that he is eager to join the other children would be a gross understatement.

I release his hand from mine and he darts to where Kate is sitting on the grass. My little niece is there on the blanket with her. From my vantage point I can see her inspecting a green leaf, which is resting just out of her reach.

When I reach them Ted is hugging and kissing his aunt, while chattering on about wanting to go play on the swings. Putting aside his desire to swing, he lays on his belly in front of Ava and begins talking to her.

"Sit," Kate pats the spot on the blanket beside her.

I fumble with the brown shoulder bag Ana packed for me to take this morning. It is heavier than it was when Ana first handed it to me. The extra bottle of hand sanitizer and large packet of disinfecting wipes may have contributed to that. I place the bag on the edge of the blanket.

I think I hear my sister-in-law chuckle at me, but when I look back at her she is smiling pleasantly. "Would you like me to introduce you to the other parents?"

"I'd rather not. They know Ana. That's good enough. They will know that I am her husband." Whoa, Grey. That sounded crass. Back up. She's just being nice.

Kate steel's her eyes upon me. I don't back down, but I do try to come up with a way to smooth over my abrupt tone. Before I have the chance to say anything she softens her expression. "Ana told me you were nervous." _Did she really now?_ "There's nothing to be nervous about. Elliot has brought Ava before. Teddy loves the children and everyone is friendly." It appears that Kate may be sympathetic to my playgroup hesitations.

Two women, appearing to be close to Ana and Kate's age, get out of a blue van and slide open the back doors. The one retrieves an infant and the other one frees to energetic little boys. The boys are running in our direction. Teddy jumps up and my heart leaps in my throat, as I watch him meet them in the middle of the grass covered hill. He is happy to see them.

Panic strikes at my heart. He's running to greet two children. I reach for his bag and retrieve the bottle of hand sanitizer. A healthy dollop of it will be put on his hands immediately upon his return. The clutching panic causing me to hold the plastic bottle tightly ebbs away slightly. My son, he has no fear. He is joyous and open with the other children. I was never any of those things.

"See?" Kate nudges me, but I am lost in the spectacle of my little boy. "Wait, what is that?" She does a double take. She's talking about the Germ-X bottle I am holding ready in my hands, but I don't answer her. I am watching my son.

Not only is he happy, but he is interacting and talking with the boys. Not every shared word is distinguishable, but their joy to be together is. The one boy is taller than Ted and his friend. He has brown hair, freckles, and appears to be conducting where they will play first.

Without warning Teddy leaves them both and comes over to pull my hand. "Daddy, swide wiff me." The boys run in the opposite direction and join a little girl in the sandbox.

"First, we need to clean your hands." He looks at me skeptically. I'm serious about maintaining a no germ policy. My baby daughter will not be exposed to anything. "Hold your hands out, Teddy." I am given a frown and he unwillingly holds his hands out. I squirt out the clear gel, one dime sized amount on his hands, and then one on mine. "Rub them together," I demonstrate and he follows suit. Kate rolls her eyes at me. Let her. She's my brother's problem, not mine.

"Hey, Kate," a woman's voice speaks from behind me.

"Hi, Sara, Hi Melody." She's exchanging pleasantries with them.

The one who greeted her initially speaks again, "Is this Elliot?"

Evidently she was not present at the playdate my dear brother attended, otherwise she would know that I am not him.

"No, this is my brother-in-law, Christian."

"Oh, Ana's husband."

The back of my neck tingles, I should turn around. She sounds amiable. Perhaps the idea of being ogled as _mommy meat_ is one that I ridiculously concocted in my mind. Slowly I turn my head and am greeted by an outstretched hand.

"Hi, I'm Sara."

"Christian," I say with firm shortness.

"Daddy, swide!" Teddy pulls on my hand and I turn to face him.

I put a finger up, "One minute, Ted and we'll go." As much as I would like to get out of this introduction session right this very minute, it would be rude.

The second woman holds her hand out to me. Her demeanor is different than Sara's, "And I'm Melody." There is a cadence in her voice. It serves to reemphasize my dislike for unwelcome attentions from the opposite sex.

I take her hand and shake it. She makes a poor attempt at hiding a flirtatious grin. That's how she's different than Sara. "Christian," I tell her my name with a bit more curtness in my tone. I look to my son, "Yes, let us go slide." Then to Kate's surprise, and mine, I invite her and Ava to join us in the play area.

She accepts, and as we walk away I can hear Melody giggling and Sara telling her to hush. I think she says something like, "That is Ana's husband, stop it," but I am not entirely sure. If that is what she said, then thank you to Sara.

"Ana told me about mommy meat," Kate interjects halfway across the lawn.

I give her a sideways glance. "Mrs. Christian Grey has been very forthcoming with you it appears."

"Don't give me that look, Christian. She was only concerned about you."

I cannot argue there. She knew how nerve wracked I was about today. It also appears that my suspicions about being mommy meat were valid. Melody would very much like to ogle me as mommy meat. In fact I am sure her eyes are having a field day watching me walk away. Does this woman not have a husband at home?

While we are still out of the direct earshot of the other mothers and their children, Kate leans in slightly. "Don't let Melody get to you. Just ignore her."

I am perplexed by how this day is going. Kate is being supportive and kind. If I give myself a moment every now and then, I can sit back and appreciate how far things have come. Everything about my life has changed since Ana, and it continues to. Always in a good direction.

 **DOWN LONG AND SHORT** slides and up ladders countless times, I follow Ted through the playground. The two boys he met earlier join us, and I am completely oblivious for some time that I am having fun. Then like a lightning bolt it hits me, as I catch Ted and the other two boys, one after another, at the bottom of one of the slides. I am smiling. Childish laughter permeates the air with the innocence of childhood abandon. Every child here is engaged in some manner of play. Dashing here and there as they talk, they make the most of their afternoon.

Teddy climbs through the forest green tunnel overhead, and a line of other children follow him. Clip clop, they sound like wild horses clomping their way from one side castle like contraption to the other.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I slip it out and look down briefly to check the notification. It's Ana.

 _I hope you're having a fun time with Teddy._

I would smile at her text if there wasn't already a smile on my face.

 _He's playing above my head in the tunnels right now._

Her text back is almost immediate.

 _He loves to makes his way through them. He likes to hide from me._

Duly noted.

 _I will keep that bit of information in mind. I love you._

She writes back once more.

 _I love you._

"You look like you're having fun," Kate is standing beside me. I hadn't noticed her there.

My sister-in-law, once upon a time she could have been the spokesmodel for fashion week, taking the time to look at her now I don't see that person anymore. Jeans, a t shirt, her hair pulled back, and a baby resting on her hip. She's a far cry from the picture of Katherine Kavanagh I once knew. _Time changes everyone, Christian._ A voice whispers to me in my mind. Funny, the voice sounds a lot like Ana.

I go for broke and level with Kate. "I didn't think I would." She nods and continues listening. "But it isn't half bad." With an intake of breath I let out words I never thought I would utter in my entire life. "It is a joy to watch the children play."

She nods again and looks down at my little niece. I listen to the resounding admission of my words in my own mind, and I am glad for Kate's choice not to speak back to me about them. Ava reaches her chubby hands out to me. She opens and closes her fists and grunts, trying to leap her little body forward. "Do you want Uncle Christian to hold you?" Kate bounces her on her hip and then hands her to me.

Teddy's voice sounds out from above our heads, "Tate! Tate! Swide wiff me!"

"Teddy calls," she turns to the ladder behind us and climbs up to go play with her nephew.

Ava is drooling and I wipe it way with my fingers. "What do you think of that, little girl? Your mother and I are actually getting along without Ana being here. Who would have ever thought?" She smiles because I am talking to her, not because she has any clue what I'm saying.

My eyes pan out over the playground. The thought occurs to me that this sight of children running about and playing will be a personal one to me soon. Ted won't be the only one old enough to enjoy a game of chase for long. Phoebe and Ava will join him in his antics someday soon. Watching him grow has demonstrated to me just how quickly that will happen too. Other children may join them too. More children. Mine, Elliot's, and perhaps even Mia's. Will they be sons or daughters? Nieces or nephews? Only time will tell that. What I do know is that these innocent young profiles of ourselves provide an astounding amount of joy into my life. A joy I never expected.


	34. Chapter 34

Thank you all for reading the Valentine's story and for bearing with me as I worked on this chapter. I know my life has been busy and I haven't been able to get to writing as much as I'd like to. Bear with me. Spring break is a week away :) My life is turning and changing constantly. I hope to be able to lose myself in my story and bring more of Ana and Christian to you more often. Enjoy.

 **HIS ARMS ARE WRAPPED** around my neck and his head is resting on my shoulder. His sweet little body is nothing but weight in my arms. Exhaustion from his active playdate caused him to fall asleep before we were out of the park gates. The scene as we left was not a delightful one. It was full of begging and pleading on my son's part. _He's going to make one hell of a lawyer someday._ He did not want to leave his friends behind, even though their mothers were gathering them up as well. The promise of apple juice and a snack won him over. _Okay, maybe he still has a few years of practice ahead of him on the lawyer bit. Bribery of the simplest form had him caving._ From the rearview mirror I watched him doze off, without taking one bite or one sip of what I had given him.

I close the front door as softly as possible with my foot, and when I turn Ana is there. She is standing in the foyer watching me. Her arms are full of our bright eyed baby girl. Her pretty face is adorned with a smile. I feel my heart skip a beat in my chest. _Normal…_ A voice I have heard a million times in my head since Ana walked into my world whispers to me. I love normal.

 **TEDDY CURLS INTO HIS** brown bear upon being placed in his crib. First I slip of his right shoe and then his left shoe. Even through his mostly white socks I can see his toes curl and uncurl. "Sound asleep," I whisper to myself and run my fingers through his locks. I should have bathed him before putting him down, but I could not bring myself to wake him. His bedclothes can be changed before tonight. Every inch of him rolled and romped through the grass and dirt today.

It was a little boy's dream day. I find myself musing how it was also a dream day for me. As unexpected as my enjoyment was, I can say with one hundred percent certainty that I will go on more playdates with my son. I press a kiss to my fingers and grace them over his cheek, wishing him sweet dreams as I do.

Ana is sitting on the sofa in the great room with Phoebe propped up on her bent knees. She is holding her hands. Phoebe's fingers are tightly gripped around Ana's index fingers. I slow my pace to hear my Ana's sweet voice talking and singing to our daughter. She stops when she catches my movements out of the corner of her eye.

"Still asleep?"

I sit down on the sofa with her. "I think it's safe to say that he will be asleep for a while."

She looks back to Phoebe and croons to her. "Do you want to go see your daddy?" At the mention I me I swear my daughter smiles. The logical part of my brain tells me that it is just a mere coincidence. Phoebe is too young to know who is her mother and who is her father just by words, but I am thrilled by her elation just the same.

At nearly six weeks of age my daughter's eyes are the clearest shade of blue. She never misses anything with her cerulean gaze. I lean over to see her face and she focuses on me. Just when I thought my heart could not possible love more, this baby girl came along. I'm busy talking to her and making faces. She smiles and lets out her soft vocal noises. Leaning in closer I kiss her button nose. It is perfect just like her mother's.

Ana is looking at me slyly when I sit back up. "What?" I question her. Her expression has me perplexed.

"Nothing." She shakes her head a tendril of hair falls loose from behind her ear. I tuck it back into place.

She's terrible at hiding it when she wants to say something. "Liar." She's being so coy, sly, and shy. I'm going to call her out on it. She went from cooing innocently to our baby to this mysterious vixen in a nanosecond, and she claims I am mercurial. Not nearly as much as I once was. I am more of an open book, at least to my family, than I have ever been in my life. It feels good.

She defends herself with a flirtatious smirk and bats her eye lashes. _So coy, Mrs. Grey._ "I am not a liar."

"No? Then pray tell me, Mrs. Grey exactly what that expression is all about?" I run my finger down the bridge of her nose and tap the tip of it. She crinkles her face at me and sticks her tongue out. _Thirty three hours and some odd minutes, baby. Stick your tongue out at me again, and the palm of my hand is going to enjoy meeting your backside._ I raise an eyebrow to her in fake admonishment. Christ, this is going to be fun. There is enough pent up sexual energy built up collectively between us to provide power to the U.S., Canada, and Mexico. Fuck it. The entire continent could glow for months on the desire I have for her.

Ana ignores my playful and implied threat of disapproval. "Mommy meat," she continues on, "how did that theory work out for you today?"

"It was not entirely a theory for your information."

"Pray tell then," she mocks me and my word choices.

Now she's full on grinning. Phoebe grins too. I think she's mirroring Ana's face when she does it, because it is the biggest smile I have ever seen her give us. If I didn't know any better, I would say that both my wife and my infant daughter are both making fun of me.

I sit back and cross my arms over my chest. "For your information my dear, Mrs. Grey my theory was not a theory it at all. It was a fact, but I suspect you already know this by the cute little smirk on your face."

She presses her lips together to stifle her smile. That causes our Phoebe to smile even bigger. She lets out a sweet baby giggle and Ana tickles her under her chin. "I may or may not have already spoken to Kate."

"Rubbish." I know these two women. I barely had the key in the ignition before they were chatting it up about me. "Kate was on the phone with you the second she left me in the parking lot."

Ana appears affronted. "And how do you know that?"

"I could hear her phone call through the speakers in her car. You know phone calls are audible from the outside of the vehicle sometimes."

"You listened to our conversation? Eavesdropper." She's not offended in the slightest. This is all in fun. I enjoy our witty exchanges of banter. They entertain me and lead to hot circumstances with my wife. This is a win/win situation. I wink at her and reach to take our daughter from her mother's lap.

I tuck Phoebe in my arms and Ana crosses her now empty legs in front of her. She looks cute in her casual house clothes, and I know I'll appreciate how those charcoal gray pants hug her behind when she stands up. I sweep my eyes over her once more. I know exactly how soft her breasts are under her tight white tank and nursing bra. So fucking sexy. My Ana. My wife. The mother of my children. I have to mentally talk myself back down. There's a baby in my arms. If it weren't for that fact I would be so tempted to cave before the six week wait is officially over. I'm all for sticking to the written rules, but this one is killing me. _Control, Grey. Get your self-control._

"I only heard the initial greeting exchanged between the two of you. What was discussed beyond that is a mystery to me."

She bites her bottom lip. _Fucking self-control._ Her eyes roll up to the heavens, as she ponders what she wants to share with me about her and Kate's conversation. _Fucking, fucking, self-control._

"She told me about Melody," she finally shares with me in a cute little singsong voice. I liken her tone to an elementary aged school girl in the play yard talking about a crush. Now I really do want to spank her.

I blow a raspberry on Phoebe's tummy. She giggles and tries to grasp my hair. I kiss her cheek. "Yes, Melody was the mommy meat admirer."

"She's like that."

"Hmmm…so Kate told me."

"She flirts with any man who shows up on the playground."

Now it is my turn to be melodramatic. I put my hand over my heart. "You wound me, Mrs. Grey, and here I thought I was special mommy meat."

She blows out a breath. "Afraid not. If it has a pulse and a penis, Melody will circle it like a vulture."

"Tsk, tsk, language." Naughty girl, I waggle my finger at her in the air.

"Oh, Christian," she rolls her eyes again. She is tempting me and she is doing it on purpose. "Penis is not a bad word."

"It is around my daughter."

"Our daughter."

"Our daughter." I return her words back to her. Our beautiful daughter. I kiss Phoebe's nose again. "I hate to hear that I have no reason to be flattered by Melody's obvious attraction to me."

She arches a finely sculpted eyebrow at me. "Do you really?" There's a trace of challenge in her question. Anastasia Rose Grey, jealous? All these years I have been the one swatting other men off of my woman like bees to honey.

"No, but I do enjoy seeing your beautiful face tinged with the slightest bit of jealousy. It's hot."

"I'm not jealous."

"Ok, maybe that was the wrong word choice. Shall we say, claiming what is yours? By the way, seeing this side of you is so hot."

Ana scoots closer to me. The sofa cushions crease when she stands on her knees and comes forward to kiss me. "Mine."

"Always."

"Forever."

"Forever. If Melody is a fixture in the playground you will have to deal with her unreturned mommy meat obsession though."

"Really?"

"I would love to take Teddy again."

"You really did have a good time."

"Ana, it was…" I inhale deeply and let out a long contented sigh. "It was the best."

"And to think that you didn't want to go."

"But you refused to accept no as my answer."

"Because I knew you would enjoy yourself, and I knew Teddy would enjoy having you with him."

"I did and he did."

She appears quietly thoughtful for a moment. Still standing on her knees she places a palm against my face. Her thumb runs over the stubble there. Her eyes hold mine. "I love seeing you with our babies."

"I love being with them and with you."

"I know."

"I hope everyday with every fiber of my being that you do know that, Ana."

"There is never a doubt in my mind."

"Good." I turn my head and kiss the palm of her hand. She smiles when my lips touch her there. Her skin is warm. She smells like a crisp fall day, love, and my Ana. I breathe her in. I always want to memorize her and these moments.

She lies down on the couch, settling with her head in my lap. I am holding them both, my two girls are here with me, and my little boy is sleeping upstairs. A quiet serenity befalls our home. Phoebe's eyes begin to close. She falls asleep in my arms, shortly followed by her mother. Ana's breathing evens out and I know she is dreaming. The late afternoon sun streams its pathways through the great room, bringing more brilliance of light into my life. I sit warming myself in it, and in the peace of watching my two girls sleep.


	35. Chapter 35

All right, here it is everyone. The next chapter will take us to the Red Room. Pay special attention to the plans they are making in this chapter though, I am dropping hints, slowly, about my own book. You may get to meet my characters through one of my fan fiction stories.

 **Ana's POV**

Sex. Three letters. One word. Sex. That is where my mind is and is where it has been. How I have managed to hold out and not jump my husband is beyond me. I have steadfast self-control. Even I have to laugh at the absurdity of that observation. In all actuality I have zilch self-control when it comes to my husband. I would have given in days ago. I want him so badly I can taste it. It is his power of restraint that has kept me at bay. No matter how tempting I have endeavored to be he is steadfast in following the rules.

 _"_ _Six weeks, Anastasia. You know what the rules are, so follow them."_ I hear his calm, cool, and collected voice in my sleep at night.

Yes, calm, cool, and collected, those are three things he appears to be. Frenzied, hot, and horny, those are the three things I appear to be, and I am those things all the fucking time. _Anticipation is the key to seduction._ I am high on anticipation, Mr. Grey, and I am ready to be seduced. Truth be told no amount of seduction will be necessary this afternoon. I am a sure fire thing.

Midway through brushing my hair back into a ponytail, I stop and stare at my reflection in the mirror. A plain blue shirt, gray legging capris, and a ponytail. This has become my signature look over the last six weeks. I open my hand and let my hair fall loose around my shoulders. If sexy is what I'm feeling then that is how I should be dressing. I strip down to my panties and bra and go back into my closet. What I am in search of catches my eye right away. A blood red button up dress. Sexy, cute, comfortable enough, and easy to get out of. That makes this the perfect dress to wear today.

I turn to my shoe collection and pick strappy black sandals with a decent heel. No flats for this look. Christian loves my legs in heels. I squeeze my thighs together at the thought of wrapping my legs around his waist. Pushing the tip of the heels into his fine derrière as he fucks me senseless, yes, yes, oh yes, that is what I want. A perfect crease at the collar of the dress, I fold the fabric over and run my palms over my front. The color of this dress should make the statement I am seeking. The shade is the same color as a certain room of pleasure, a decent peep of cleavage is showing, and the hem lands just above my knee. I swish my hips in front of the full length mirror, before stepping into my shoes and fastening the strap.

"Promise me you'll do that little move with your hips later when you're wearing less clothing?" A low deep voice growls from the doorway behind me.

I jump and scream. Christian laughs enjoying my reaction. "You scared me." I swat my hand in his direction.

"That was not my intention," he shakes his head once.

"You were spying on me."

"No, I came to see if you were ready to leave for your appointment. Your sexy sashay was bonus footage. I was only hoping to see you dressing, or at least the tail end of it. Instead I got to see that and you shaking your end."

How does he have such a way with words? I think my cheeks are as red as my dress. I'm not embarrassed. I am hot as hell for my husband, but then I think I've mentioned that several times already. My brain is on a one-way repeat, and it's stuck there. Especially now that I am looking at him. Dressed in a light gray suit pants, no jacket, and a soft blue shirt rolled up and cuffed perfectly, my mouth waters looking at him. I want to undo that brown belt and slide it through the loops on his pants, freeing the treasure I know is waiting for me below the surface.

I am completely unaware of the fact that I am licking my lips until Christian points it out to me. "I wish I could read that dirty little mind of yours, Mrs. Grey. But if I were to make an educated guess, I would have to say that you are undressing me with your eyes."

My eyes linger on his forearms and move down to his hands. Oh, those fingers. I cannot wait to have them where I want them, moving slowly, flicking quickly, driving me out of my mind in a maddening and erotic way. Long and skilled fingers.

I take in a breath and my mouth goes dry. Christian is in front of me, lifting my face up to his with one of those fingers under my chin. "Yes," he whispers like his words are secret, "these fingers," he runs his thumb over my bottom lip, "and this thumb will be inside of you in every way possible before the sun sets this evening."

 **THE APPOINTMENT WITH DR. GREENE** is speedy and uneventful in all the ways that it should be. What it shouldn't be is frustrating, but it is because all I want to do is get the hell out of this exam room. Christian keeps throwing suggestive looks and gestures my way. The man is driving me out of my mind. _He really wants to drive you out of your panties._ My inner goddess shimmies her way out of hers and leaves them on the exam room floor. The table with stirrups will do just fine for what she has in mind. Thankfully my subconscious is there as the voice of reason, telling me exactly why the table is not a good idea. Otherwise, I would be siding with my naughty inner goddess.

Discreetly Christian runs his fingers up my bare shin, as the doctor writes out my new script for birth control. I look down at his hand and uncross my legs, then I re-cross them with the opposite leg on top, putting my other leg just out of his reach.

"I've prescribed the same pill you took after Theodore's birth," Dr. Greene is looking down at her iPad as she swivels around to face me. The slightest squeak from her chair breaks my trance.

"Thank…thank you," I stammer out.

She glances between Christian and me. Her lips settle into a smile and I know she's not daft. The woman is an obstetrician after all. I am sure she has seen many couples fighting back sexual tension at six week postpartum appointments.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Nope." I take the piece of paper and rest my hands in my lap.

Dr. Greene stands, "Then I'll see you in about a year, unless I see you sooner."

There's a suggestive glint in her eyes. _More babies._ Will I want to have another baby so soon after Phoebe? And then I recall the dream I had not so many days ago. The chubby baby boy with chestnut hair and blue eyes, shadowing Teddy and Phoebe as they played chase in the meadow. I must drift far into my headspace, because I feel Christian slip a hand in between mine.

"Are you ready to go, baby?"

"Yes, yes, sure. All ready." I slide off the table and step back into my shoes. Christian kneels down and fastens them for me. The doctor bids her quick goodbyes and leaves. She has other patients to see.

"Where were you just now?" He's asking about my momentary drift off to dreamland.

"I'll tell you later when we're alone."

He hands me my purse and I put it on my shoulder. "I intend for us to spend the rest of this day and the night that will follow after the sunsets alone." Down the hall and into the waiting room I feel myself blush. The room is full of people waiting for their turn to see the doctor. Having them hear my conversation about my afternoon plans is not at the top of my to-do list.

"Grandma and Grandpa?" I shift the conversation to something more publicly appropriate.

"You know it, baby. They have Ted and Phoebe. You're all mine." His. I am his and he is mine.

"What if Phoebe refuses her bottle again?" I stop mid step and look up at Christian with worry imprinted on my face.

Over the past week we have been working to help our baby girl acclimate to feeding from a bottle. She has not been as easy to convince as her brother was. My little girl is set in her ways and prefers to nurse. "My mother works wonders with children."

I feel my heart, the heart of a mother, growing anxious. I need to feed my baby. My anxiety is foolish, there is no way in the world Christian would allow either of our children to go hungry. "I know, but…"

"But if Phoebe is not having it we will go straight home." He is firm in his words. Resolved that there would never be any other option considered.

"Good." I smile as we exit the office. The sun warms my face and causes me to squint my eyes. Its rays are bright, reflecting off of the buildings and sidewalks of downtown Seattle. I slide my sunglasses down from where they are resting in my hair.

Christian squeezes my hand and pulls me to face him. "You never have to question that, Ana. The babies come first."

"I know, it was just a moment of mommy panic. I can't help it. I'm sorry."

He opens my car door for me and kisses my lips gently before I climb in. "You never need to apologize to me, not for that, not for anything."

 **FOR LUNCH I AM** treated to a meal at the same bistro we came to after my six week appointment for Ted. Everything feels the same. The rustic red walls and European décor are all just as they were two years ago. The only difference I can find is us. Instead of having one baby at home we now have two. Christian orders our drinks and food upon the waiter's first approach. I believe he is as anxious to get to Escala as I am.

Two glasses of sparkling water, each with a wedge of lemon, a summer pasta salad, and salmon with asparagus, sit atop the black and white checkered table cloth. Christian raises his glass and I follow him. "To us, Mrs. Grey," he says simply.

I clink my glass to his, "To us, Mr. Grey," and take a sip of icy coolness.

Just like always we find an easy flow of conversation. Christian tells me more details about the new shipyard he is looking to acquire. "Houston is out of the question," he tells me. "They wanted far too much money for the menial operation they were already running. I want a good price and efficiency. Something akin to what I already have here in Seattle, New York and in Belfast."

I knew years ago that he was interested in Savannah. Back then there were obvious reasons, at least in my mind they were obvious. I am sure to anyone else they would have been too. I was in Savannah, at least part of my life was with my mother living there. Now that she is living in Nevada, or wherever the wind blows her, Savannah does not appear to be on Christian's radar anymore. Another city on the east coast has caught his eye, and I can tell by the tone in his voice he has a passion for the yard he is considering for purchase.

"With Charleston I would have two yard on the eastern seaboard and one here on the west. I want to bring some of the green energy we are using in Belfast here to the U.S."

"I've never been there," I interrupt his enthusiastic monologue.

"To Charleston?"

"Yes, I've never been there. Have you?"

"I travelled there once years ago. Would you like to go?"

All I have to do is say yes, and this wonderful man will transport me there whenever my heart desires. "I've always thought I would like it. I enjoyed Savannah when my mother lived there." The humidity was not my favorite thing, but there was something about the southern air. The people who lived there. The salty tang to the breeze as it drifted inland off of the ocean. I could lie on the beach for hours, or at least until I began to turn into a lobster, and breathe it in.

"Consider it done, Mrs. Grey." I smile broadly, as if there was every any doubt that he would say that. "We'll take a catamaran out of Charleston harbor. I've taken you sailing on the cold waters of the Pacific Ocean, next we'll sail on the warm waters of the Atlantic."

"When will we go?" The promise of sailing the waters of another ocean with Christian has me thrilled at the prospect of this journey.

"You're an enthusiastic little thing now, aren't you?"

"Enthusiastic to sail away with you."

Christian lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the back of it. "Always, forever. I think it will be a few months, beginning of October maybe? That will give my team enough time to communicate with the current yard owners in South Carolina."

"Teddy will love the beach." I remember our trip when he was just over a year old. Watching him toddle along and collect shells, it was one of the most precious things I have ever seen.

"He will, it will be fun seeing him experience it a whole year older." I can tell Christian is thinking back to the same memory as I am.

 **WE FINISH OUR MEALS** , still chatting about what now seems to be a certain trip in our near future. Christian pays the bill and we leave the restaurant behind. My belly flip flops with hundreds of butterflies.

"So, where are we going now?" I look back at him as he opens my car door for me once more.

On the busy street side he stands behind me and discreetly runs a single finger up and down the open collar of my dress. Just touching my skin where it meets the red fabric. "You wore this color and this dress on purpose." His warm breath tickles my ear.

"What if I did?" _Christian stop or I'm going to melt into a puddle of orgasm right here on Pike Street._

"Oh, baby, I know you did. And as for your question, like you don't know." I love the seductive sarcastic tone in his voice. It is hot. So fucking hot. He smacks my bottom, his body shielding me from eyes other than his own. "Get in the car, I cannot wait to have you."


	36. Chapter 36

I admit and I apologize, this took me forever to write. I found myself crazy busy with conferences and then that Friday when I was free and should have been writing I became very sick. For the first time in my life I had strep throat. By the time I made it to the doctor I was dealing with strep, and ear infection, and working on getting bronchitis. I felt like ##$%%$^$ LOL. No writing was happening.

So I hope you all don't mind the delay, I think I've made it rather worth it.

***WARNING Christian does suckle Ana's breasts in this, so if that is something that bothers you please take that into consideration.*

 **A MAN ON A** mission, Christian wastes no time getting us to Escala. The short drive there goes by in a blur or people, cars, and buildings. I can say the same for the elevator ride up to our apartment. The second we step into the foyer his hands are on my body, and his lips are melding with mine.

I am breathless and my head is spinning. Christian Grey intoxicates my mind and body on every level possible. My hands join his in a frantic dance of needy exploration. All of the times we have been together up until now vanish into thin air. What matters now is this moment. How much we crave each other. After six weeks passing by with limited physical contact I want him now.

He is sustenance to my soul, heart, and body, just as I am his. Every time we are together we love one another with the same passion as we did the first time. I wish in my foggy state of mind I could find better words to describe what I feel for my husband, but I cannot because those words don't exist. No language on Earth during the entire expanse of human life has ever created words that powerful.

In between our fervor of kisses Christian begins whispering something to me. At first I cannot understand him. His need and want is as excessive as mine. I understand him when he begins pushing the buttons of my dress through their holes.

"Naked…I…want…you…naked…" He breathes out the words in a disjointed jumble.

Even with my mind fogged by arousal I giggle to myself. This man who has been playing it so cool and calm, making me look like a wanton vixen these past few days, has lost his self-control completely.

The top three buttons are opened, revealing the lacey top of my black bra. "Here in the foyer?" I tilt my head back to expose more of my neck for him. He takes what I offer and skims lips down my skin. Small bites are soothed by his tongue. My fingers thread through his hair. His locks are soft against my hands, but the scruff on his face is rough against the tops of my breasts.

He dips a forefinger in the valley between my breasts. With assistance from his thumb he undoes the one hook there. The bra falls open and my breasts, heavy and round, are exposed. I guess he does mean here in the foyer. I teeter in my tall heels, trying to remain standing. When he takes one of my nipples into his mouth I know I am going to be done for. I will surely topple to the floor. I will not be able to stand through the pleasure.

"Christian…I need…I can't stand…" I look down at the top of his head, and he looks up at me. Swiftly he lifts me into his arms and carries me through the foyer. We pass the kitchen and go directly to the stairs. Up the stairs and to the end of the hallway, the playroom door is already open and waiting for us.

I feel like one of those little silver pieces on a game board. Go directly to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Gladly. I am going to enjoy the sentence Christian Grey has waiting for me in our oubliette of ecstasy.

The room that I know has been altered. Changed. Not entirely. The red walls and menagerie of furniture that have witnessed our sexual exploitations, and have been participants in our wicked endeavors, are still the same. The change is that something has been added to the room. Free standing on the floor, framing the walls, and even placed on the ceiling are mirrors. They are reflective works of art. Some are simple clear glass with clean lines. Others are have beveled edges of cut glass. The largest one in the room is positioned over the bed. Directly proportionate the expanse of the bed, it is framed in blood red stained glass. There are intricate swirls etched around the crimson color.

Each mirror reflects the portion of the room in front of it. I feel like I've entered some sort of maze. Music is playing softly in the background. Filtering through the room, it gives the mirrored space a hauntingly erotic mood. Christian puts me down, and I find my footing to stand in front of him. I open my mouth to ask him why the additions have been made to the room, but as usual he answers my question before I have a chance to ask it.

"I want you to see how beautiful you are." He skates his fingers down between my breasts, coming to the still fastened buttons he undoes them. In the mirror directly in front of me I can see his back. His muscles move beneath his shirt, as he kneels lower and lower. Each button pops through its hole. I allow the dress to fall from my shoulders. My bra joins it. Only my panties are left.

Christian kisses me there. His hot mouth is pressing against the black lace covering me. I feel his hands drift down my calves. His rests them on my shoes for a beat, but then moves them back up my body. He rises as he does. I guess we're leaving the shoes on. Fine by me. I had visions involving them and his derrière anyway.

I expect Christian to kiss me again but he doesn't. He leaves his clothes on too, which is a disappointment. This situation will have to be rectified and soon. As much as he wants me naked, I want him naked too. He steps around to stand behind me. I am gazing at my reflection in the mirror. Head to toe I can see my bare skin. Bare, with the exception of my panties and shoes.

"Look at yourself, Ana." He traces his fingers down the sides of my neck and along the lines of my shoulders. I watch his face and his fingers. My eyes dart between those two things and seeing me. Six weeks after giving birth to my second baby. I've already noticed it before. My body changed after Ted was born, the changes now are even more pronounced.

Christian continues to journey his hands down my body. Caressing each inch with care, he means for me to see myself. He wants me to see me the way he does. That is why he has placed the mirrors in here.

The feelings of insecurity after Phoebe's birth have come and gone. For the most part they have flittered away, but I know he's seen me. He's noticed how I linger in front of the bathroom mirror, touching my belly and shifting from side to side. I have never been addicted to exercise or an incredibly healthy lifestyle, but I have weighed myself more often and taken the time to really look at my body. All of this has been since before Phoebe's birth. I blame Kate and those prenatal yoga classes. Some of my post pregnancy body changes are already fading, others will be with me for the rest of my life. I'm not vain, but I also do not look like the same fresh college girl Christian first met.

I wonder, am I the only woman who notices these changes and spends time focusing on them? I can't be. Every woman must feel some sense of loss of her former self, but what I have gained from these changes is far more important than what I have lost. I have gained two beautiful children. With Christian I have the family I always wanted.

His fingers drift down to my belly and I cover his hands with mine. He loves me here. He loves me everywhere, but I know he especially loves me here where our babies grew. He doesn't have to tell me with his words again, he already has and I would know it even without his words.

"I'm going to make love to your entire body, and I want you to watch me do it from every angle. I want you to see how perfect look, melting, bowing, and coming alive under my touch. I want you to watch us make love through the reflective stare of the mirrors, Anastasia. I want you to see you how I see you every time I make love to you."

My belly flips and turns with expectation. His words caress my ears. He makes love to me with his spoken intentions. The desire I have to touch his skin the way he is touching mine is too great to deny. The front of my body takes leave from reflecting in the mirror. As I turn to face him, I know Christian can see my backside in the glass. I allow my mind to picture what we will look like, our two naked bodies joined in passion, echoing erotic images and filling the room with them.

The heat of his skin finds mine when I remove his shirt. I kiss the place where his heart beats. He's watching me. "I want you naked too." I smile brazenly, giving him the unnecessary explanation of my actions. "It wasn't fair, me being the only one divested of my clothes."

He matches my smile with his own. I slip his belt through its loops and sink to my knees to tug his pants and boxer briefs off. The sensual music gives my body the freedom to find a sexual rhythm I didn't know I had. He steps out of his clothing, and I cannot resist turning to take in the spectacle that is us. My hair falls over my eyes and I tuck it behind my ear. I want to behold this image with my eyes. I want to burn it into my mind. Two lovers forever entwined with one another in every way possible. I kneel in front of him, positioning my body to the side so I can see our reflection as clearly as he can.

"I want you to see me too, Christian." My fingers encase him. So hard. Hard for me. Only me. "Watch." I bite my lip in anticipation. He's watching me in the mirror. Twin pools of molten gray his gaze burns so hot it could crack the mirror, causing it to shatter just as I am sure I will shatter beneath him before the sun has set this evening. In this room though, there is no span of time that passes. Hidden from the sun and the outside world we are given free rein to be affected only by each other.

Christian weaves his long fingers through the hair at the back of my head, and he guides my mouth to his straining erection. He is going to give me so much tonight, I want to pleasure him now. I will show my appreciation to him first.

His skin is soft beneath my lips. I kiss him first and run my tongue up and over him where my fingers are not touching. I squeeze my legs together, already feeling the dampness collecting there. Just a taste. I slip his hardness past my lips and suck, sliding my hands further down toward the base of him. I hear him suck in a deep breath, stealing himself for what is to come. My hand falls away and I push him all the way into my mouth. He hits the back of my throat and I hold him there for a brief moment. I suck hard before pulling him back out and grazing him with my teeth.

This will not last long. Christian will not let it. If he did he would come too soon, and I know that is not something he is willing to do. The woman's voice sings the words, "Slow down," and I remind myself to do just that. Slowly I slide my mouth down him again. I pull and push, tightening my lips around him with each push and giving slack with each pull.

He groans and his fingers tighten. He cups my head in his hands and his hips move. Subtle movements, fractionally pulsing in and out of my mouth. He's losing himself in my mouth. Fuck. I could lose myself in doing this to him. I look up at him through my lashes and see him watching me. His skin is flushed and there are beads of perspiration on his chest. Oh. Fucking. My. Christian Grey is on the verge of losing control and I am the one driving him there.

"Ana…Ana…" He gasps out my name. I lean back on my heels. "Baby…" He swallows and I know his throat is dry. "Stand, go to the bed."

I lick my lips, taking in the last bit of salty tang of him and stand on shaky legs. Somehow I manage to walk to the bed. I lay down. The upper half of my body is propped higher than the lower half. Christian had obviously arranged the red satin pillows and overstuffed cushions in this manner on purpose. The mirrors in front of me highlight the lower half of my body. Christian climbs on the bed beside me.

"My turn," he says in a hoarse, due to the pleasures he received from my mouth, yet determined voice. "Lift your ass," hooks his fingers on either side of my panties. "I would tear these, but I'd rather like to see you wear them again."

"You could always buy me another pair."

"Yes, but those would not have been coated with your delicious arousal, Mrs. Grey."

"But I'll wash these."

"Yes, but I will always have the knowledge and the memory of you soaking them on this occasion."

Fuck. Me. _He's going to! He's going to!_ My inner goddess shouts. She is like a slippin' slide. Wet and wild with anticipation.

My black lace panties are removed from my body. Christian, in true Mr. Grey style, brings them to his nose and inhales my scent. This simple action makes me convulse with need just as hard as it did the first time I saw him do it.

He takes the time to fold the lace and neatly place it near the pillows at the head of the bed. "Now. It is your turn to watch me. Open your legs." Christian guides my legs apart with one hand on each of my thighs. In the dim light I see the shimmer of wetness coating my skin. Christian licks his lips slowly, deliberately, he wants me to know how much he wants to taste me. And taste me he does. He swipes a finger over my inner thigh and brings it to his mouth. "So sweet," he says to himself, licking his finger clean.

My mind implores me to continue watching him, but the feel of his other hand on my sex directs my gaze to the mirror. My body is spread wide. I look up at him, suddenly feeling too shy to look directly at the mirror in front of me. I want so badly to watch him, but instead I find myself fluttering my eyelids closed. I have so much courage with Christian, but this feels even more intimate than anything else he has asked of me. I've seen him make love to me before but never like this. There is nothing left to the imagination. My body is on full display for his eyes and for my eyes.

"Stay with me, Anastasia." He kisses my lips. I peel my gaze open and back to him. He begins his descent with his mouth. Over my breasts he places hot kisses. Atop my belly. He lingers tracing and licking the marks left on my body from where I carried our babies. I stretch out beneath him finding bravery and feeling luxuriously lascivious. He stops just short of my sex and sits back up.

Now I fix my eyes on his fingers. He spreads my body wide with them so I can see every part of me. Nothing is hidden. "I want you to watch yourself come, Ana. I want you to see what I see with my eyes when your orgasm courses through your body. I want you to see what I feel on my fingers, taste with my mouth, and feel with my body when I am deep inside of you."

Rosy pink and creamy white. The colors of my body surrounding his fingers. Sensitive and aroused by him. For him. What I see is not the body of a woman who should be insecure about her looks. I see myself as a woman, erotic, beautiful, and stimulated sensually for my husband. This is what he wanted me to see. It is how he wanted me to feel about my body. _I feel it, Christian._ My mouth gapes open, I am breathing hard. I feel my breath catch in my throat, as he slips to fingers inside of me.

"Hard and fast, or soft and slow? Tell me what you want this first time, baby. After this I will do what I want, but this one is your choice."

I'm impatient. I've waited long enough. He's driven me to the edge of losing my self-control, and I thought I was the one commanding this interlude. Then in moment of clarity it dawns on me, we are both controlling how we love one another with our bodies. This is a give and take, all intimate relationships should be, but what Christian and I share is on a completely different level. Have two people ever been so attuned to each other's needs?

"Fast, Christian. Hard and fast. I want to come so badly that it hurts." It does. The physical ache I have for him in my core is almost unbearable.

"Do not close your eyes." He commands and I shake my head.

"No, no I won't close my eyes."

He pushes his fingers inside of me and I buck my hips up off of the bed. Fuck. "So tight," his grinds out the words.

I'm watching his fingers disappear inside of my body and then he flicks them against me. Deep inside and I begin to fall. Everything I am seeing before my eyes only causes me to spin out of control at a greater depth and speed. "Look at your body, Ana. Oh, baby…you're coming."

My body pulses and contracts, spilling around his fingers. I cannot stop it. He's driving me out of my mind. I'm floating and crashing down to the ground. I see everything he wants me to see. I'm moaning, whimpering, crying out his name. My sex inundates his fingers with the evidence of my orgasm. It continues on and on. More and more. I will give him everything he asks of me. My mind, my heart, and my body will never deny him.

Fixated on watching what he is doing to me, I am unaware of any other part of my body until I feel his mouth. Droplets turn into thin streams of milk coursing from my breasts. Slowly Christian brings me down, back to our playroom, and in the mirror above our bed I see his body cover mine. He takes one nipple into his mouth and begins sucking. With his mouth taking milk from my breast he pushes inside of me. I accept him and finally bring my legs up, wrapping them around his waist. Oh, the way he pulls pleasure from my body with each suckle. _Yes. I want to whisper…yes…over and over again._

This is what I wanted to see. "I love you," I find the words and breathe them out to him. _Just breathe,_ I remind myself along with the lyrics of the song.

Christian makes love to my entire body at the unhurried tempo of the music. Our grunts, moans, and declarations of love mingle with the carnal composition. I have stepped into the alternate universe that exists only for Christian and me. This man who owns me. I give myself over to him freely. The master of every tangible and ethereal part of me. My Christian. My fifty shades of love and unity.


	37. Chapter 37

Hello all, I wish I was able to post more than once every two weeks, but that is all life is allowing of me right now. I have to admit though, these longer breaks are providing nice inspiration and time to mull over my chapters. I hope you all will enjoy this one.

*insert another Christian breastfeeding from Ana disclaimer here*

 **STRONG AND DEEP STROKES** between my thighs, Christian positions himself there again and again. Our afternoon and evening is filled with satisfaction. Above him with my legs straddling his hips I feel powerful. His hands and mouth appreciate me. He never hurries. As much as I want to focus on him, he wants to focus on me. What we experience is a delicate dance of give and take.

We are both ravenous for one another, and by the time the sun is setting our appetites for food are the same. When we emerge from the red room the downstairs of the apartment is filled with radiant light. A giant fireball is sinking below the horizon. Less than half of a sphere it is moving to the other side of the world, but it is guaranteed to return with the dawn.

I tie the sash of my silk robe around my waist. The knot is secure enough but not too secure. An occasional hint of skin peeking out at the top of my robe, as I move about the kitchen, cannot be a bad thing. It will only serve to wet my husband's sexual appetite further.

The kitchen is fully stocked for an evening meal, snacks, and breakfast. The number of bottles of water filling the middle shelf does not go unnoticed by me. Mr. Grey has intended for us to work up quite a thirst during our overnight stay here at Escala. I take two of the bottles and offer him one. He sits perched on one of the stools at the bar.

"Thirsty?" I twist my bottle open, realizing that even as I tease him I am in fact parched myself. Screaming Christian Grey's name over and over again, while he pleasures you beyond your wildest dreams, will do that to a girl.

Christian drinks nearly the entire bottle. I guess screaming my name has had the same effect on him. "Thirsty and hungry," he replies in confirmation.

I blush and wipe my wet lips. "Me too, let's see what we can do to fix the latter now that our thirsts have been quenched."

I sense Christian's eyes on me the entire time I am rummaging through the refrigerator and the cabinets. As hungry as I am, I do not want to cook anything that will take forever to repair. The words maximum effort are not in my culinary vocabulary tonight. Little effort while being quick and delicious those words are more like it. I find a nice loaf of crusty white bread, gruyere cheese, parmesan, thinly slice ham, Dijon mustard, yes this is all coming together quite nicely. A fancy grilled cheese sandwich. A croque monsieur. We ate these at nearly every sidewalk café we came to in France.

"Delicious choice," Christian eyes what I have set out on the counter. "I'll assemble the sandwiches while you make the sauce?" He suggests and I agree. With his help the prep and cooking time will be cut in half. The faster we make these sandwiches the faster we eat.

In less than thirty minutes we are both sitting at the dining room table. It feels a bit silly to sit at the formal table with two taper candles lit and two glasses of champagne while eating fancy grilled cheese sandwiches, but we are doing it. Champagne, sandwiches, and two simple green salads, my mouth is watering in anticipation.

Christian lifts his glass of champagne and I follow. "To us, Mrs. Grey and to surviving yet another post baby six week wait."

He tips his glass to tap it with mine, but I pull back minutely. "And to surviving it only to end it with a mind-blowing culmination."

He raises an eyebrow in surprise. "You have such a way with words, Mrs. Grey."

"So I've been told." I smile pleased with myself and my addition to his toast.

I move my glass closer to his, but this time he is the one who hesitates and pulls back. "One more addition to our already near perfect toast?"

I nod and my mind goes to where I think his is going. I think my breathing stops too.

"And to surviving at least one more post baby six week wait in the future."

Pleasantly stunned I let out my baited breath. Gray eyes watch me with anticipation. I clink our glasses together, "Cheers." A grin like I have never seen before breaks out across his lovely face. He looks like he has just found a long lost sunken treasure, and as I think about it maybe he has.

After dinner, when I have cleaned my plate, I call home to check on Ted and Phoebe. Teddy chatters to me with excitement. It seems that Grace and Carrick have topped the brown teddy bear they bought him at the zoo awhile back with an even bigger one. This one he claims he can ride.

Once Grace is on the phone she tells me that the stuffed bear sits on the floor motionless, as all stuffed toys do, while Teddy climbs on its back and pulls at its ears. Poor toy animal. It's a good thing it is not real. Any real animal would not tolerate such behavior. She promises to text a picture of Teddy atop his new brown bear as soon as we're off the phone.

She assures me that Phoebe is doing well and taking her bottles like a good baby. I hear her sweet coos and whimpers over the phone. My heart melts. I miss my baby girl. The rational side of me knows I will see her tomorrow, but the mommy to a newborn side of me aches to hold her.

Christian moves closer to me on the sofa and tucks me under his arm. I lean my head against his chest. I feel my nervousness calm more and more with each gentle stroke his hand makes on my arm. "They're both doing great," I smile up at him softly when my phone call has ended. My phone pings almost immediately with a text. "Look," I show him the picture from Grace.

"That is a huge teddy bear," He remarks taking the phone from my hand for a second. He hands it back and I look at the grinning face of my little boy. So mischievous and full of life. He has every single person in this family wrapped around his little finger, especially his grandma.

I look at the picture for a second longer and then switch the screen off, leaving my phone on the cushion beside me. I curl my body closer into Christian's. "I miss them both."

"I know," he pauses. "Do you want to go home, baby?"

I love him for asking me this question, but as much as I miss my babies I know I am one hundred percent sure of my answer when I give it to him. "They are ok with their grandma and grandpa. I want to stay here. It's only one night."

"They'll be back in your arms tomorrow."

I grin and my heart warms further. Any remaining anxiety melts away. "In the meantime we get to enjoy our mommy and daddy alone time."

"I have enjoyed it thus far."

"Me too." My body flushes hot all over remembering our previous activities in the red room.

The sun has set now. Only the faintest hint of it remains in the form of a pale brush stroke of peach on the distant horizon where the city meets the sky. The only light in the great room belongs to the two taper candles flickering on the table and the pendent lights hanging over the kitchen bar. Seattle is alive though with its signature twinkling night lights. They span out before us. I fix my gaze on them. I have always found this vista somewhat entrancing. So far removed from all of the lives moving on below. Like in the red room this afternoon, we are wrapped in our own little world up here. Nothing can touch us.

I sigh and run my hand over my chest. The silk robe sighs with me against my skin. It slides open slightly exposing the tops of my breasts. Hearing my baby's sweet sounds, my body couldn't help but respond to them, and I am now a bit uncomfortable. It would be time to nurse her if I were at home right now.

Christian covers the back of my hand with his palm, my hand disappearing under the size of his. "Let me, baby," he says knowing exactly what I am feeling. He knows what I need.

My mind and body know what is coming. Passion will follow this. I can already feel myself responding to his touch, and he has yet to put his hand anywhere except atop mine. He guides me onto his lap, my back props against the arm of the sofa.

"Are you comfortable?" He moves two cushions behind me.

I relax back against them. "I am now."

His fingers untie the sash and my robe falls open. The front of my body is bare to him. He cups my left breast in one hand, kneading it softly and touching my nipple with his thumb. "I have you, Ana." He whispers and brings his head down to closer to my chest.

My body stretches out before him. I flex and point my toes in anticipation. Every single time he does this my senses hit a point of overload. It feels just as intimate and intense as it did the first time he did it. That moment was so unexpected, but it was so good. I remember wanting to share this with him again almost immediately. I also remember how confused I felt about it, but Christian alleviated my anxieties just like he always does. This is ours.

His mouth makes contact with my breast. He continues kneading my skin and suckles. I feel my body release to him and his name dances from my lips, "Christian…"

"Mmmmm…" He hums to himself. The vibration against my sensitive nipple causes me to arch up into him. "Relax," he breaks his contact to speak to me.

So I do, I lean back into the cushions and begin to comb my fingers through his tousled copper hair. I watch him nurture my body, caring for me and loving me. I want to imprint this moment, and so many other moments, into my memory forever. They are what make up the beautiful love story of my husband and me.


	38. Chapter 38

**"** **CAN'T WE STAY HERE** a little longer?" The bed is warm from our bodies and the sheets are soft against my naked skin. The desire to leave this space has not been roused inside of me yet. Even with the morning sun shining its bright rays of greeting through the windows I want to stay here. More than twelve hours after our arrival at Escala my body is exhausted and well rested all at once. That is what a continuous variety of love making will do to a girl.

I snuggle into Christian's side, pulling the sheet up and over my head. My fingers start to walk downward. Over his chiseled abs and down to the tickly hairs of his happy trail. I stop when I hear the funny sound of his stomach growling. "Are you hungry?" I laugh and kiss him there.

Christian reaches his hands under the askew sheet and hooks them under my arms. He hauls me back up his body. Nose to nose he kisses my lips. "Mrs. Grey, you are voracious little vixen and your sexual appetite is unquenchable, but alas I am hungry. I require food if we are going to have one more go around before leaving for home."

He's right, sustenance is needed. I lost count of our sexual encounters somewhere around midnight. This has been our version of the sex Olympics. Gold medals all the way. I lay back against my pillow and put my arms behind my head.

"Your breasts look delicious when you do that." Christian pulls the sheet down and nips each nipple with his teeth. "You stay here, I will bring us breakfast in bed."

He's gone before I have a chance to question what breakfast in bed from Christian will entail. I supposed I could ask him before he's out of the room, but my eyes and brain are too entranced watching his ass walk out the door. The function of the brain delivering language to the mouth and then speaking words is gone.

I decide that whatever he brings will be good. Christian's cooking prowess has improved somewhat over the past few years. Sure he's not going to be nominated for a James Beard award at any point in his life, but fresh fruit and toast he can handle.

 **FROM THE FIRST PIECE** of fruit salad I pop into my mouth to the last I am in breakfast heaven. In between bites I tell Christian that he's been holding out on me in the breakfast department. He laughs at me as I take a bite of jam laden toast.

"I found a recipe online and followed it." He's sitting naked in the bed with the sheet pooled around his waist, enjoying his own breakfast.

The tray in front of us holds pretty dishes of salad, toast, butter, jam, coffee, tea, milk, and vase with a single pink rose in it. He has outdone himself. I cannot decide if I want to concentrate on my food, the beautifully presented tray, or my unclothed husband. All three are gorgeous to behold. The food and the husband are delicious to taste.

"It didn't take long," he shrugs and continues to brag. Then the rule truth comes out, "I was able to handle the mixing, measuring, and stirring. It was the cutting I was worried about, so I had Gail do that yesterday before we arrived here."

"Gail came here to Escala just to cut fruit for you?"

"Not just to cut the fruit, she shopped and prepped other things too."

"I'll have to thank her."

"Are you going to thank me?" He puckers out his bottom lip in a fake pout. It is adorable.

"Mr. Grey, I intend to show my gratitude to the fullest extent of my abilities." I run my tongue over my bottom lip, tasting the sweet strawberry jam and the syrup from the fruit. I sink my teeth into my lip and smile at Christian with my eyes.

Not taking his gaze off of me he dips his pinky into the fruit salad, coating the tip with the sugary liquid. He licks his finger clean in slow deliberate sweeps. His tongue on his finger. I clench my thighs together under the sheet. "This would taste so divine on your skin. Sugar… _Vanilla_ …" He accentuates the word, _vanilla_. "Finish up and then lie flat on your back. I will care for you and taste you while you show your gratitude.

 _Oh yes…breakfast in bed brought to you by Christian Grey and the number sixty nine._ My inner goddess makes a poor attempt at a not so G rated children's program play on words. If I wasn't so keen on forming that number with Christian I would chastise her in a harsher manner.

I pick up my breakfast eating pace. A few more bites of toast and a two more sips of tea. I am done. I put my dishes back on the tray and drop my linen napkin on top of them. "Done," I announce.

Christian finishes his coffee with skim milk, raising an eyebrow as he does so. "In a hurry to go somewhere?"

Show not tell. I decide to take that route for my next movement. I slide down off of my pillow, flattening my back against the mattress. I move my feet to kick the sheet and covers from my body. Naked I tilt my head to look at him. "I'm not leaving until I show you how much I appreciated breakfast."

He places the tray on the floor, leaning over the side of the bed as he does. "Then don't let me put any unnecessary delay on the situation. Your wish is my command."

 **CHRISTIAN THOROUGHLY FUCKS MY** body with his mouth. He brings me to the brink of orgasm with his tongue, replaces it with his fingers and tips me over the edge, then he repeats the process again. I cry out my pleasure, tasting him with my own mouth as I do. He groans and flexes his hips. Deeper down my throat he pushes his erection. This moment is so desperate and passionate. It's fucking hot.

The taste of him is intoxicating. I lick my lips in between his thrusts into my mouth, collecting the salty tang he leaves behind. Smooth, hard, and determined I suck him. His groans and the way he pleasures me with his tongue ensures me of my skill level. We concentrate on one another's body, helping each other to find the pinnacle of gratification once again.

My orgasm finds me in a rush. A sudden and unexpected flood courses through me. It leaves me trembling in its wake and wanting more. I always want more with Christian.

"More, Anastasia," he rasps out. Hearing his words echo my own thoughts brings me back to teeter on the threshold immediately. He pushes his fingers inside of me, and I feel so full that I might burst. I gasp and his tongue laves at me there. "I have three fingers inside you. Too much?"

I close my eyes and my pelvis slightly against the mattress. Christian lifts his hips so that the tip of his erection is barely brushing my lips, allowing me to talk. "No," I answer him, feeling my body adjust to the intrusion. "No, I'm good now."

"Come again, baby. I want more of you." He moves his fingers deep inside of me and places his mouth firmly around my clitoris. He sucks me there. I feel his teeth bite down sharply just as he flexes his body back into my mouth.

Instinctual ambiances take over and I fuck him with my mouth. I fuck him with the same voracity as I do when I am straddling him. I suck and lick him harshly through the miasma of decadent sensuality he is inciting from within in me. His body is mine and my body is his. There is no holding back in this moment. Every muscle in both of our bodies tighten and relax, as we find our release together. We drink each other in, relishing the bare intimacy we share.

 **HOT WATER, STEAM, AND** Christian Grey envelope me. He lazily runs a soapy sponge up and down my arm, kissing my shoulder blade every so often. I sigh and relax against him.

"Sated, Mrs. Grey?"

I smile a satisfied, yet salacious grin. "For now, Mr. Grey." _I will never be completely sated when it comes to you, Christian._ My body, my heart, my soul, and my mind will always want more.

Christian cups water in his free hand and rinses my arm, before moving to the next one. I weave my legs with his, enjoying the view of our naked bodies tangled together underwater. Absentmindedly I trace the fine hairs on his forearm with my fingers.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"I was just thinking about work."

"Work?"

"Yes."

"Hmmmm…" He lets out a low grumble in his throat, and I know where he wants to take this conversation. The funny thing is that I want to take it in a very similar direction.

"I want to extend my maternity leave."

He stops washing my arm. His entire body is still around me. "You do?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

I allow his question to hang in the air for a short amount of time. I want to give him a true and honest answer. There is no need to play guessing games. I don't know a definite time for when I'll want to go back to work. What I do know is that time is not right now. I want to be with my babies. I want to work, but only from home and never at the expense of spending time with Teddy and Phoebe.

"I'm not sure. I want to work some from home, but I don't want to be bound to a nine to five schedule right now."

He drops the sponge to the water. It gently floats away. Christian turns my body so that I am facing him, causing small undulations to form in the tub. "Is this what you want?"

My face breaks into a smile of certainty and reassurance. "I want to focus on our family, the one we have and the additions that the future might bring."

"Ana," Christian presses his palm to my cheek. "I want you to be happy."

In the pristine simplicity of this room, where we shared our first moments of naked vulnerability with one another, I know that my words are sincere. "I am happy, this decision is happy for me."

"Oh, baby… my Ana…my more…" He breathes out the words and our lips find their way to meet.

One more time before going home we lose ourselves in one another again. This time is different though. There are only soft kisses and warm whispers. The water from the tub does not splash on the floor. It only moves and ripples with our gently motions. Hands graceful floating over skin. Lips tenderly kissing. Tongues darting out to taste droplets of water. Two hearts bursting with a love they began to feel so many years ago. That love grows stronger every day. There is no reason to ever ask myself how I could possibly love him more, because I simply do. With each passing day our love deepens.


	39. Chapter 39

Phew! Finally got back to writing. I hope you all enjoyed the birthday story I wrote, and if you haven't read it yet then I hope you enjoy it if you do.

 **THE PORTION OF OUR** weekend set aside for private lovemaking at Escala comes to an end. I ease my body into the car, a little more sore than I was when I got out of it yesterday. I catch Christian's knowing smile out of the corner of my eye, as he closes my door and walks around to his side. He's still wearing it when he turns the key in the ignition.

"Enjoying your own private little joke, Mr. Grey?" I ask him, wincing slightly as I attempt to cross my legs.

Christ my legs haven't been spread apart for that long in a while. Mentally I make a note to get back to exercising and stretching ASAP. While I am definitely not a fan of either of those things, there was a certain amount of enjoyment in the prenatal yoga classes Kate roped me into. I wonder if there is something close to equal to those classes that I can take now.

I must remember to ask Kate. She is always up to date on the latest fitness trends. Albeit some of those trends she jumps on board with could make a grown man cry, beg for mercy, and run home to his momma. I am not interested in joining any of those, but a little light fitness can't hurt.

We back out of the parking space smoothly, and Christian shifts the car into first gear. "Not at all. I am merely enjoying the fact that you're sore and I made you that way." He glances over at me and my panties nearly melt on the spot. "I like you sore." Oh, those words resonate within me and cause so many echoes of past and present feelings. All of which are just as molten hot as they were the first time I felt them. I know in future they will continue to burn just as hot.

I reach for his hand just as he begins to lift his foot from the clutch. He allows me to bring it up from the shift and to my lips. I decide on his ring finger, so sexy with his wedding ring. I draw it into my mouth and suck.

He lets a hiss of breath out between his teeth. "If you keep this up you won't be able to walk for a week, because I will take you right back upstairs and fuck the hell out of you again."

I watch him from beneath my lashes and release his finger, biting the tip of it gently. "We can work on making that scenario come true tonight after the babies are asleep. For now I'll be a good girl." I bat my eyes at him and toss my head back in an over exaggerated gesture of flirtatiousness. So very much out of character for the girl I once was. That was before Christian.

Christian chuckles to himself and pulls toward the exit of the underground garage. "Mrs. Grey, you were never a good girl, but you have always been very good." _Fuck, no. You have always been good, Christian, even at being very bad. Yes, you have always been especially good at that._

"Christian!" I laugh and swat at his arm. OK, maybe he has a point. I always knew where I was hoping to go with him, straight to his bed and into his heart. _Mission accomplished, Anastasia. Mission accomplished._

 **OUR ENERGETIC LITTLE BOY** is waiting for us when we pull in the driveway. From the front seat of the car I can see him peeking out the window. When Christian pulls to a stop his face disappears and two point two seconds later the front door opens. Down the steps he flies with Carrick close behind him. I barely have time to catch him in my arms. He's beaming with joy and chattering a mile a minute. I can only make out every other word he says, he is so excited to see us.

He darts from me to Christian and then back again. "Mommy! Daddy!" We keep exchanging hugs until he finally grabs us both by one of our hands and leads us into the house.

Carrick follows us, "I think he may have missed you," he chuckles.

My darling blue eyed baby girl is curled up in her grandma's arms. She's sound asleep, but the commotion stirs her just enough. She blinks her eyes open. Christian beats me to the punch and gets the first batch of welcome home snuggles from our Phoebe. She yawns while he kisses the tip of her nose. Teddy hugs my legs again and darts off, when he returns he has his big bear. He is toting it by its ear.

"Let's go sit down, Teddy and you can show me your bear." I bend down to leave my purse on the foyer floor. The rousing welcome committee led by Theodore Raymond Grey makes their way collectively into the great room.

 **AROUND A CASUAL SNACK** of tea, coffee, fruit, and a few sweet treats family chatter takes place. Gail places the full tray on the coffee table and Teddy dives in for a handful of strawberries.

"Me like stwaberries, Mommy," my always hungry little boy speaks around a mouthful. Juice dribbles down his chin and I catch it with a napkin.

"Finish chewing and swallow before talking so you don't choke, Teddy." I fold the napkin to a clean side and place it in his hand. Like a little gentleman he dabs the corners of his mouth with it and nods his head.

When the strawberry is gone he smiles, "Otay, Mommy."

I take a piece of fruit for myself and the cup of tea Gail has already poured for me. "Bag out, Mrs. Grey, just how you like it."

"Thank you, Gail."

I settle back into the couch cushions. Christian has yet to touch anything from the tray. I catch Gail's eye and I know she wants to offer him coffee, but I wave her off smiling. He's too caught up in loving our daughter. There could be a seven course meal in front of us right now and he would ignore it.

"When was the last time she ate?" I ask Grace in between sips of tea.

"Shortly before you came home."

"Good, thank you both for watching them."

Carrick enjoys his own drink and a sweet roll. I took note as Gail poured for him that he declined sugar and cream. "Strong and black," he requested in between yawns.

"It was our pleasure, Ana, you know that." My father-in-law fails hopelessly at disguising his third yawn since we all sat down.

"Me pway tucks wiff Gwandpa." Teddy takes a strawberry and steals a nibble of a sugar cookie.

"Yes we played trucks and tag and hide and go seek." Another yawn, Carrick lists the itinerary that Teddy Grey had for him. There is no doubt that he had a very busy twenty four hours in our absence. My baby boy can be a tough employer, more demanding than any lawyer Carrick might come into contact with at work.

"It sounds like you kept Grandpa busy."

"Me did," he puffs his chest out a little bit with pride and we all laugh.

Grace rubs Carrick's arm. "I think Grandpa needs a nap more than the little ones do."

"I," Carrick covers his mouth. Yawn number five, I believe. "I think you may be right."

Christian shares his attentions between everyone else in the room and Phoebe, but for the most part his eyes are still fixed on her. Teddy continues to linger near the food but eventually he climbs up into my lap. He chimes in while we talk. When Christian's voice breaks through in a moment of conversational pause we all look at him.

"Ana is going to stay at home with Teddy and Phoebe." He's speaking aloud to us, but his eyes are locked with our daughters. He runs his finger over her cheek and she turns her face, seeking out his touch.

I see Grace and Carrick exchange a glance of surprise. The moment feels awkward and I can sense their thoughts. "I've been considering it for a while and told Christian this morning."

I shrug it off like it's no big deal because really it isn't to me. This is what I want. The lingering feeling that it should have been a monumental and earth shattering decision nags at me, but why would I make something difficult when it really isn't? I'm following my heart and my heart is here right now.

"That's a big decision." Grace reflects my own thoughts one what it should be with her own words.

"I can still do things from home. I am not walking away from my work all together, it means too much to me for me to do that. These two though…" My thought trails off and I take a second to find how I want to finish it. I kiss the top of Ted's head. "I want to be with them."

"I took a sabbatical from my practice after Christian came and then again when Mia came. Two children keep you busy, three do that too but just times three instead of times two."

My cheeks warm and Grace smiles warmly. She knows everything. She can read me and she knows her son. She's a mother of three. Her intuition is light years ahead of mine. I only hope to have her level foresight, family, and knowledge with the same degree of poise as she does someday.

"I didn't know that." Christian never mentioned Grace being at home with him, Elliot, and Mia.

"Carrick's job and mine allowed me to have that option. We were very blessed."

I think back over my own childhood. My mom worked odd jobs, and when I stayed with Ray he worked. Ray has always worked. Nothing in my life lacked because of those circumstances, it was just different and that is okay. Different families work in different ways. Nothing has to be black or white and nothing has to be written in stone.

"You'll find your natural rhythm for your family, Ana. Always do what makes you happy, then your family will be happy."

I look around the room and the support from these people radiates. It fills the room.

Grace and Carrick do not stay much longer. I see a long nap in Carrick's future when they are at home. Poor man, this grandpa gig has worn him out. Christian finally relinquishes his hold on Phoebe long enough for his mother to kiss her goodbye. While Grace is busy kissing her grandchildren I go to grab my phone from where I left my purse in the foyer. I pause when I hear Christian and Carrick's voices. They are near the front door talking and I can just make out what they are saying. The echo the vast ceilings, hard floors, and sparsely decorated walls provides makes their brief conversation audible.

"You're a lucky man, son." Carrick's deep authoritative tone rings out. It's the voice of a lawyer. He's always so strong and direct. I've known for some time that is the reason for the past turmoil between him and his youngest son.

"I know." I hear Christian speak and I stop breathing.

"Make sure she knows that."

 _I do, Carrick. I know exactly how much Christian loves me._

"Every day, Dad. I show her and tell her every day." I think there's a catch in the back of Christian's throat, like he's choking back emotion. I cover my lips with my fingertips and smile back my own tears.

"Good. Well, I'm going home to take a nap."

They chuckle together and I love hearing it. Not so long ago they struggled to meet on a middle ground. Time changes everything. It is the only constant we have in life, and with time my husband and father-in-law have used it to mend everything.


	40. Chapter 40

I believe this story is coming to an end. I feel it. I always wait for that moment when I feel Ana and Christian telling me quietly that the end of a story is coming near. I never end one until that moment. I think there may be one to three more chapters left. Thank you all for being on this journey with me. As many of you know, this will be my last full length story for a while, but I will continue writing birthdays, holidays, anniversaries and such. I have been writing Fifty Shades fan fiction for nearly 4 years now. And in these four years you all, my readers, have brought me so much joy. You have challenged me. You have encouraged me. You have made me think. You have made me grow. Through this journey I have found love. I have lived through sad times. I have lived through the happiest times. I have lived. Fifty Shades of Grey gave me a voice I never knew I had. I hope you will all continue to stay with me and perhaps even read my own personal work when I am finished with it.

Now...on with the chapter.

 **THE SIGNAL THAT A** new work week is beginning sounds loud and clear at seven o'clock Monday morning. Christian's alarm clock buzzes to the life with the traffic and news report. I rub the sleep from my eyes and roll over to snuggle up against him and find that we are not alone in our bed. There sleeping between us is one Theodore Grey, and on the other side of him is his baby sister. She is asleep in the arms of her daddy. He is very much awake though, watching both of his children while they are deep in slumber.

"Good morning, Mommy." Christian mouths the words to me in a barely audible whisper.

I give him a sleepy smile. "Good morning, Daddy."

He reaches behind him and awkwardly fumbles until he has silenced the news reporter, who was talking about a reduced Metro fare card. Two tiny blue eyes blink open. "Good morning, princess," he greets our daughter and I think my heart is going to melt, again. Christian with our babies, sigh. I cannot even begin to explain it, and honestly I don't think I have to. Heart melting are the only two words I can think to use to describe how it makes me feel.

"I wish I didn't have to leave this bed," he says still watching Phoebe.

"Then don't. How did Teddy end up in our bed?"

"I have to. I have a nine o'clock meeting that I cannot miss, and there was a thunderstorm just before dawn. I heard him talking over the monitor about the booms."

I must have been sleeping deeply, because I never heard Ted's voice over the monitor. Phoebe had me up twice early in the night for feedings. I move my mind to reflect on Christian having to be at work for a meeting. Scheduled meetings, rush hour traffic, the walls of my office, these are all things I won't be dealing with for some time to come. "I want to go into work one day this week." Christian immediately looks alarmed. "I need to tell Hannah about my choice to extend my maternity leave." I see him relax.

"I can take care of that for you, baby."

"I know you can, but I want to iron out some details with her and Claire. Outline what I can do and want to do from home, and delegate my other responsibilities to the proper employees."

Love and pride glow so evidently in his eyes. "Look at you, Anastasia Rose Grey in CEO mode. This is so hot." Phoebe grunts and whimpers, then she gives us her small hungry cry. "Breakfast time, Mommy."

Christian sits up as I scoot over to make room for our daughter. He places her gently next to me and I offer her my breast. Like the little nursing champ that she is, she takes right to it. She and her brother are very much alike in this department, they are both driven by their tummies and their appetites.

"This is sexy too, Mrs. Grey." Christian traces my jawline with his fingertips. Leaning down he brushes a chaste kiss across my lips. "Shower time for me."

I watch him leave our bed and walk across the room to the bathroom. What the sight of him in pajama pants does to me now is very much the same as what it did to me the first time I was fortunate to witness it. My eyes refuse to stray from taking in the way they hang from his hips and sculpt out the fine contour of his behind. His body is the epitome of a Greek god and he is mine, all mine.

The breakfast table is as lively as ever with Teddy enjoying his pancakes and bananas. Will my baby boy ever prefer something different for his first meal of the day? I am sure I will faint the day he requests to add some variety to his breakfast.

He puckers his syrup sweet lips to kiss his daddy. "You have toffee, Daddy?"

Christian takes his chair on the other side of our son. "Yes, I have coffee." He lifts his cup and sips some of the coffee Gail had waiting for him.

"Me like toffee," Teddy says with great certainty. He pushes his chest forward a bit when he says it, and I smother my smile with my fingers. Such a little man. He wants to be just like Christian.

"Coffee is for adults, son."

"Me am aduts, Daddy."

"No, you are a little boy."

"No, me am big boy."

I switch my eyes between my two men, the little one and the big one, enjoying the exchange of banter that is taking place. They are both resolute in their assessments of the situation at hand. Neither one will want to waiver in any way. Teddy presses his lips into a firm thin line. Oh that look. I've seen that look many times before, and I wonder if Christian feels like he's gazing into a mirror.

"Me am big boy, me dwink toffee."

I don't how Christian is going to win this little battle. If I were him I would give Teddy a taste of the coffee. He is sure to find it less than tasty and will not want anymore, but I don't see my husband doing that. Gail, who has been enjoying the back and forth between father and son as much as I have, intervenes with an idea of her own. Admittedly it has a ring to it and I think it is going to work.

"Look here, Teddy." She catches his attention for a second. In her hands she is holding a red mug. "I have a special coffee for you."

Christian fixes his eyes on her and frowns immediately, but Gail gives him a look that tells him not to say a word. To my surprise he bites his tongue.

"Toffee?" Teddy is intrigued by what splendid liquid the ceramic mug could be holding.

"A special coffee just for you. It has chocolate in it. Your daddy does not have a special coffee." She speaks to her one membered audience as if she were selling him a priceless treasure trove full of gold.

His eyes are fixated on her face. He listens intently to every word she is saying, weighing the validity of her offer I am sure. He wants coffee, of that he is sure, but is she presenting him with the same thing his daddy has? Somedays I am certain that my little boy will be a CEO just like his father, then other days I think he is going to be the perfect lawyer like his grandfather.

Gail winks at Christian and me, and it becomes clear to me that she is offering our little boy a mug of cocoa. She places it on top of the table in front of him and he peers down into it. He is investigating it to see if she is telling the truth. Seeing that it is brown in color, just like Christian's coffee, he is satisfied and picks up the half full mug to take a drink. By the way he gulps down the cocoa I know it is more than likely slightly warmed chocolate milk.

When he lets up for air he is all smiles. It even appears that he is gloating in his demeanor, telling Christian that his coffee is better than any other coffee. "My toffee is yummy, Daddy." He runs his tongue over his lips, leaving no trace of chocolate milk behind.

"What do you say to Miss Gail, Teddy bear?" I prompt him, always wanting him to remember his manners.

He thanks her in between two more drinks, this time clean his mouth with the sleeve of his pajama shirt. "Tank you, Dale." Well, at least I got him to thank Gail. That's one plus. We'll work on using a napkin to clean his face, instead of his shirt sleeve, another day.

"You are welcome my sweet boy." Gail ruffles her fingers through Teddy's mess of copper curls.

Christian shakes his head and I see him grinning. He's amused by the antics of our little boy, even if he was trying to stand his ground on coffee being only for adults. "When were you planning to go in to meet with the staff at GP?" He asks, changing the subject.

"I don't know, sometime this week? The soon the better I think."

Gail puts our omelets in front of us, first mine and then Christian's. He picks up his fork and cuts into the eggs and vegetables with the side of it. "I can schedule the meeting if you would like?"

"Ok, that would work, thank you." I realize I could easily call or email Hannah to get the date and time of the meeting set, but allowing Christian to do it is ok too.

He wants to take care of this for me so that I can devote my time to our children. This I will let him do. I can relinquish some of my control over my work life to him. I have always put myself fully into my job, but this is another way for me to step back temporarily until I am ready to return to work full-time again.

"There's no need to thank me, baby. This is what I do."

"I know." I cut into my own breakfast and take my first bite.

My life continues to change and evolve, even in moments when I am unaware of it. Change becomes the new normal and normal, well as normal as life can be with Christian Grey, is what I love. I love this dance of everyday family life and I love sharing it with the man across the table from me.


	41. Chapter 41

Enjoy!

 **AT HOME WITH TEDDY** and Phoebe my days run together. They merge into what seems like a never ending weekend. If it weren't for Christian having to go to work I would lose all sense of time. This is why Thursday morning, when I am up with the alarm and getting into the shower, comes as a bit of a culture shock to me. The new habit of being at home, and following the rhythm of my children's lives, has come to me effortlessly. I was meant to do this at this time in my life.

The past three days have been days of play. Teddy wants to be outside every possible second of the day. Sometimes he carries his toys with him, other times he only wants to run across the green lawn chasing a butterfly. When the afternoon sun is hot I allow him to turn the water hose on, and he becomes a wet and muddy mess. Gail is always waiting for him at the backdoor with a towel, when I am able finally coax him into coming in because there is a pre-dinner snack waiting for him.

Today my active little boy will stay at home with his 'Dale', and I will go to work, only for a few hours. I do miss the girls at the office and I'm going to lunch with Kate while I'm in the city. Maybe I will make it home in time to wriggle my toes in the mud with my little boy, before the afternoon comes to a close.

I rifle through my closet and decide on a white sleeveless button up shirt and pair it with a cute coral pencil skirt. I love the flirty frill on the bottom hem of the skirt. Being at home means wearing at home clothes. I want to dress for work and wear a skirt. The color matches my little Phoebe's outfit for the day too, well outfit number one anyway. Her wardrobe choice could change at any minute, and it often does. Tiny babies are good at that, being little closet divas. They enjoy making a mess of their clothing, forcing their parents to change them several times a day.

"I love that color on you." Christian eyes me from the bathroom doorway. He's holding Phoebe in his arms and watching me dress. "I'm going to find a dress for you in that color."

"I have a skirt in it," I put my arms in the air, shifting my hips to one side, and strike a pose for him, "See?" I model the article of clothing covering my bottom half. I never thought such a perky color would look good on me. I always go for earth tones, but this skirt has me pleasantly surprised.

"I do see, and a dress in that color would be even more beautiful. It would show off your creamy skin and waves of chestnut hair."

I twist my hair up and secure it with a few pins. "For today the skirt will have to do."

"For today," he concedes with a smirk. If I know Christian he'll have a new dress ordered for me before lunchtime. I won't object.

"Are you going to be a good girl for your mommy at work today?" He bounces Phoebe in his arms gently. She purses her lips and raises her eyebrows in an animated facial expression. I cannot help but giggle at her. This morning she is full of life. She's been giving us coos ever since her little eyes popped open for her first feeding of the day. That feeding was only a snack, I know she has room in her belly for more milk. "I think that's a 'yes', Mommy. She's very excited to learn all about the world of publishing."

"Is that so?" I step into my ballet flats and brush my fingers over my skirt. I'm ready to go.

"She says she wants to start learning early so she can be CEO someday," Christian tells me, still watching our daughter in adoration. What will my babies be when they grow up? I only want them to be happy. She's off to a great start on that path, both of them are.

I walk over to him and lift my sweet baby girl from his arms. "If you want to be a CEO, young lady, then you have to come down stairs and have a proper breakfast, while I feed your brother and myself."

"He's helping Gail prepare the pancakes this morning."

I smile imagining Teddy covered in pancake batter. There's probably more batter on the kitchen counter than on the griddle. If she puts the slice bananas within his reach she's going to have to peel and slice a whole other plate of them. Teddy will clean up a plate of fruit. "That should be interesting."

"When I last looked Gail appeared to have everything under control."

"She's an amazing woman."

"That she is."

 **"** **TAYLOR WILL RETURN TO** wait for you," Christian carries Phoebe in her seat through the front door at Grey Publishing, holding the door for me to enter first. "He'll take you to lunch and then back home."

"Yes, Sir." I almost salute him, but I decide against it. He's telling me everything I already know. Instead I glance up at him and sink my top teeth into my bottom lip. That always gets him.

Never losing his composure he leans down to whisper in my ear, "Are you being smart with me?" His breath is hot against my ear, and just like that the tables are tilting against me. I need to turn them back in his direction. Take back control.

I square my shoulders and straighten my frame, regaining my poise. "Yes, Sir."

"I'll deal with you and your smart mouth later."

A shiver runs through my body, I flex my hands, feeling it flow out the tips of my fingers. "I look forward to it, Sir." Christian fakes determination to have all of the power, but I know he secretly loves it when I take the reins. Topping from the bottom, I enjoy it.

Our brief and private tête-à-tête is interrupted by a squealing sound. Claire runs toward me clapping her hands, "Let me see her. Let me see her." She bends down and begins the process of cooing over my sleeping baby. "She's gotten so big since I last saw her."

"It was only a few weeks ago."

"She's grown so much!"

"Ana is here with the baby?" Two women, Eleanor and Helen work down in finance, speak in unison as they come around the corner.

Before I know it three more women have joined them, and I ponder over the fact that a lot of ladies work here. Not too many men are employed at Grey Publishing. There's only the author's we publish and Steve who handles the web content for our site. He was an intern a few years back. We hired him as soon as his internship was complete and he has a boyfriend. Come to think of it, we've never hired any of the other male interns who have worked here. They do their internship and then move on.

My eyes shift upward to the man standing beside me. He's all smiles showing off our daughter to the fawning women around us. The majority sex of my personal is no coincidence. I roll my eyes heavenward. This man, he has made sure somehow that I have only women and one gay man working with me. How did this happen without me noticing it before know? I suppose when you're engaged in the task of your everyday work life the people you work with become fixtures. I don't know how he managed it, but this has Christian Grey written all over it.

"I thought I heard a commotion in the lobby." Hannah makes a beeline to ogle my baby girl too. No one is immune to her beauty and cuteness.

Claire finally breaks away from the thong of Phoebe admirers. "It's good to see you, Ana," she hugs me.

"It's good to see all of you, even if my Phoebe is stealing the show." The entourage of baby love is still in full force.

"She's darling."

"I cannot argue with you there." Alright, I know I'm biased, but her fame cannot be argued with.

From my vantage point I cannot see my daughter's face, but I know the second she opens her eyes because everyone ooo's and ahhh's over how blue they are. "She has your eyes, Mrs. Grey," one of the ladies calls over to me.

"Clear and powder blue," Christian says in response with awe in his voice. That causes them all to swoon even more. A group of baby cooing and Christian swooning women has taken over the lobby.

The final climax of the pitter pattering of hearts is when Christian kisses me and Phoebe. "Have a good day my beautiful girls," he kisses the tip of our daughter's button nose and chastely pecks my lips. Everyone scatters in their respective directions. I can hear their giggles and smiles as they go. He did that on purpose. My heart, the loudest of all, joins in the choir.

"How long are planning to work today, Ana?" Hannah and I are walking down the hall towards our offices.

"Just a few hours. Let me change Phoebe's diaper and then I'll be in to see you."

"Okay." She turns off into her office and I finish the short walk down the hall with my daughter in tow.

Change Phoebe, put my wrap on, place her in the wrap snuggled up against me, meet with Hannah and tell her my decision to take an extended maternity leave. The first three tasks are easy peasy. It's not that I think Hannah will begrudge me my decision, but it is a big change and it will affect her. I hope she takes it as well as I think she will. She's amazing. I'm not going anywhere for good, I'm only taking a temporary step back. Hopefully she sees it that way too.


	42. Chapter 42

I know it's shorter than usual, but I wanted to get something up for you all. The first three week of school have kicked my a**. Thank you to everyone who is still reading :) Your devotion does not go unnoticed or unappreciated.

 **HANNAH'S OFFICE DOOR IS** slightly ajar. I knock on it three times before entering. She smiles at me first, and then her eyes move to where Phoebe is nestled in her wrap. Papers are scattered in neat piles on top of the desk. In the midst of them Hannah's laptop sits open. She puts her hand on the top and closes it.

Two other ladies breeze behind my back in the hallway, momentarily catching my attention. They greet me in passing, smiling and offering pleasantries. I turn my head, nod, smile, and wave to them. The busy bustle of the work day is in full swing. Not so long ago I craved being at the center of this world. I am sure I will want to be in the midst of it again someday. This work is part of who I am. Passion for it runs through my veins.

"I was just putting the finishing touches on the final revisions of Mr. Aaron's manuscript," she explains to me.

In my mind I flick back to reading it. His way with words was refreshing and new. Hannah found another bestseller for our clientele when she discovered Travis Aarons. He's going to be an overnight success. The second we publish him he's going to shoot straight to the top of the New York Times bestseller list. I for see him topping Boyce Fox's sales easily. Her laptop lid clicks close.

"When do you think it will be ready?" I'm eager to read the finished product. He has a keen sense on how to writer mystery with a hint of romance tossed in between the pages. I never thought a mystery could elude to almost hot romance, but it can and Mr. Aarons has sharp-edged way of writing it. Once this book is released readers will not be able to put it down.

"Next month at this time, if not sooner. He only has to read over these final revisions and we're ready to publish."

"Wow that was fast."

"He's an easy author to work with," she says and I think I see the slightest hint of a rosy blush creep across her cheeks. Could Hannah be smitten with Travis Aarons? "But enough of that, what did you want to meet about?" She sets everything else aside and leans back casually in her chair, changing the conversation and bringing any more talk of Mr. Aarons to a halt.

I take a seat in front of her. Hannah and I have always been relaxed with one another. The way we ping pong ideas back and forth is natural. Our workplace relationship is friendly yet professional. We get things done, but we never have a bad time doing anything. The passage of time has proven how alike we are when it comes to running a publishing company. We have the same goals in mind and our strengths and weaknesses complement each other perfectly.

I look down at my baby girl and run a knuckle over her soft cheek. She and her brother are why I made the decision that has led me to this moment. "I wanted to meet with you about my maternity leave. I'm going to extend it." I pause, taking a breath, and it gives Hannah enough time to speak.

"How long?" Wrinkles of thought form on her forehead.

"I'm not sure maybe a year, maybe more. I haven't made a concrete decision about that. What I do know is this, I want to hand the reigns over to you in my absence. I won't be gone completely. I'll come in when I'm needed and I will work from home some. These babies though," I smile at Phoebe and she yawns, "I want to be at home with them."

I don't know what kind of reaction I was looking for from her, but Hannah smiles and nods her head. "I'm not surprised and I don't blame you. You're a wonderful mother, Ana." Then her pleasant expression waivers slightly. "I'm going to do my best to fill your shoes until you come back, but I cannot promise perfection. No one can run this publishing company as effortlessly as you can."

Hannah never gives herself enough credit. She is timidly proud of her work. Her modesty for all of her accomplishments is part of her charm. It is part of what drew me to her as a Co-CEO. "Yes, there is one person who can," I throw in my friendly argument of confidence in her, "and that person is you."

I think she wants to say something in dispute, but she doesn't. Instead she thanks me for my confidence in her, lowering her head minutely as she does. "So, are you going to stay today or are you heading out soon?"

"I was going to stick around and clean out a few things in my office. Take some stuff home that I might need. I'm not emptying it out by any means, but there is no reason for all of my personal items to be here anymore."

"Are you taking home your chocolate stash?" A sly grin of inquiry slides across her rose pink lips.

"I will bequeath that to you." I stand from my seat, as I promise her the wealth of expensive chocolates in the bottom left drawer of my desk. It really is an expansive assortment. My pregnancy with Phoebe made me crave sweet cocoa covered nuts and fruits. Chocolate in an office filled with women is a necessity. I am happy to pass the chocolate holding torch for the time being.

Hannah rounds her desk, "I'm right behind you."

 **"** **I'M READY WHENEVER YOU** are," I crook my neck to hold the phone between my shoulder and ear. I'm shoving the last few things I need from my office in my bag and talking with Kate on the phone at the same time.

Phoebe is sleeping safely in a cradle made of pillows on the small sofa in the corner of my office. Not having her attached to me for the time being has made moving through the office easier. I hear her sweet little kitten like yawn and see her stretch a tiny fist in the air. It's her mid-nap stir session. She always readjusts herself halfway through her nap.

"I'm up for anything," and there's the usual question. She always asks me where I want to eat when we go out. She knows what my answer will be, I will leave it up to her, but she still continues to ask me. "You knew I was going to say that," and there she is telling me that I always leave it up to her.

Kate has always been the 'in the know' girl. She tries all of the latest and greatest restaurants in Seattle. I have always been along for the social and culinary ride. Besides, I trust her when it comes to choosing good food. She may not be able to cook it, but she does know what tastes good.

"Cheap Chinese? Sure." My mouth is watering just thinking about it. Greasy, salty, noodles with sweet and sour chicken, yes please. Flavors that remind me of my college days. Me. Kate. Couch. Cheap Chinese Takeout. Trash T.V. Now that was our kind of evening.

I've been able to coax Christian into enjoying some cheap pizza but not Chinese. He prefers his lo mein freshly made with only the finest vegetables and proteins. That's all fine and good, but come on man! Sometimes you just want to gorge yourself on Panda Express.

"Taylor is waiting downstairs for us. I'll gather up my things and Phoebe. We'll meet you there. Is fifteen minutes good?"

I hear a horn honk and Kate telling some "fucker" to stop riding her "ass." I assume Ava is not in the car with her.

"Fifteen minutes" I giggle and ask my question again.

She agrees and ends the call. Bless the man who created hands free calling in cars. He may very well have saved my best friend's life. She is terrible about talking on the phone and driving. At least with the hands free she's a little less threatening to the people driving the streets of Seattle.


	43. Chapter 43

This is the last chapter in Part 6. I will continue to write shorts. I am working on a short story for Ana's birthday. I will never say that this is my last full length story, because I never know when Christian and Ana will speak to me. I will say thank you all for being with me on my journey. These past four years have been incredible and they would not have been possible without my readers.

 **IN MILE HIGH HEELS,** Kate stands up from a corner booth and waves me over. Our favorite spread of not-so-good-for-you goodness fills the table. Along with two empty plates, silverware, napkins, two glasses of water, and to paper sleeves of chopsticks. I have always strived to use those darn things with finesse and no spillage. It is also one goal I have never achieved in spite of my many attempts.

I weave between the tables full of Seattleites out on their lunch breaks, all dressed in their office attire. At the end of the maze of business men and women, I am wrapped into a hug by my best friend.

"Love the skirt!" Kate says beaming at me when she pulls back from the embrace. "And the baby, love the baby." Now she's cooing and kissing at Phoebe who is staring up at her from her wrap. "You're the perfect accessory, aren't you baby girl? Your eyes are the most perfect shade of blue."

Phoebe puckers her pink lips up and blows out a stream of drool. "I think she agrees."

"Of course, she knows how beautiful she is."

"She most certainly does. Her daddy tells her she is beautiful every day."

An hour later the bowls and plates of food are noticeably less full. In contrast my stomach is about to burst. Phoebe has long ago become bored with the conversation between Kate and me. She is asleep in her wrap. Oblivious to the world around her. Teddy slept a lot at this age, but he was also very interested in people. Phoebe could care less about trying to keep her eyes open to take in the sights when she is tired. She is a little sponge unless she is tired. Nothing gets in the way of her sleep.

Kate slurps up the last noodle from her bowl. "Anastasia Grey stay-at-home-mom, I always knew this day would come."

"You did?"

"Ana, you've always been the maternal type. I've told you this before. It comes easily for you."

Being a mother comes easily to Kate too. She is perfect with Ava. "You're a natural too."

"I'm a natural blonde," she pushes the hair of her loose ponytail over her shoulder. "You're a natural mother. I love my Ava to pieces, but staying at home isn't something I have ever wanted to do. I need the nonstop vibe of a busy work day. Deadlines to meet, stories to cover, being where news is when it happens, I love the rush of adrenaline I get when sink my teeth into a good story."

She's right, Kate has always been on the prowl for a good story. If she can get to a piece before any other reporter does then it's even better.

"Elliot is cutting back on how hands on he is with the construction company for the next six months. When Ava is one he will pick back up on it. For now, he's staying at home with her."

Elliot Grey, much like his brother, wants to see his wife go after her dream. I am not surprised by the news Kate has just shared. Besides, Elliot's world also revolves around his baby girl.

"What happens when Ava turns one?"

"We are looking at the top preschools in the area. I've already toured two of them. We have two more tours next week and then I'll make a choice."

"Six months before you enroll her?"

"Of course, silly," Kate laughs, "I have to get her on a waiting list."

A waiting list for preschool? My best friend and sister-in-law is looking at me like I should have known that preschools have waiting lists. I'm looking at her like…well like I'm in shock to find this out. It's a preschool for goodness sake not a preparatory school. By the way she's acting she is filling out enrollment papers for Ava to attend Yale or Harvard.

"You haven't looked at preschools for Teddy?"

"No?" My answer ends with an upswing in my tone of voice. I'm answering her question with a semi question of my own. Should I be?

"Why?"

Ummmm….because I'm staying at home with him. That's the reason I'm staying at home and not going to work every day, to be with him. Why would I send him to preschool if I'm at home? This makes no sense to me. Mom stayed at home with me. Of course she had her occasional candle making or stained glass making venture, but she was always at home with me. Ray worked and Mom stayed at home. My subconscious looks up from her tattered edition of _What to Expect: The Toddler Years_ and nods at me in agreement. I will stay at home with my children until they are ready to start Kindergarten. _Don't you think you should include Christian in this conversation?_ Now my subconscious is questioning my one handed manner of dealing with this.

Christian will want our children to have the best education possible. He will also want them at home with me. I am certain that we can find a happy medium in all of this, we always do when it comes to Teddy and Phoebe. For now there is only one answer I can think to give to my best friend, who is currently staring me down waiting for me to speak.

"Because I'm staying at home with him." I give her a much simpler answer than the dissertation I just spoke to myself in my mind.

"Oh," is her initial, and short, response. "There's nothing wrong with that, Ana." She is quick to continue speaking. I think she's covering up her true feelings about the matter until her facial expression shifts to her warm Kate smile. "You're going to be the perfect stay-at-home-mom, but then I've already told you that."

"Thank you, I hope so. This little one and her brother will keep me on my toes."

"There will never be a dull moment."

"Never," I laugh and think about the little boy in my dream. I keep the vision of him, the third baby trailing behind Teddy and Phoebe, to myself. There's no need to share that with her right now. The time for that will come soon enough.

We finish spending the small amount of time we have together talking about other things. No more serious talk is needed today. Just the small talk and chit chat between two best friends resides between us until it is time to leave. We exchange hugs and Kate kisses her sleeping niece.

"I'll call you next week?"

"Sure, I think Grace is planning a Sunday barbeque for next weekend."

"Sounds delicious."

We say goodbye and part ways. Taylor waiting in the car for me and helps me with my things, as I secure Phoebe in her seat. "Where to, Mrs. Grey?"

"Home, Taylor." I settle back in my seat and allow my eyes to close. Teddy will be up to his usual mischief when I arrive. It is best that I try to get a small nap in now while I have the chance.

 **AN AFTERNOON OF LAUGHTER,** toddler sass, baby cries, smiles, and a few stubborn Teddy Grey foot stomping moments give way to a quiet evening. Tucked in the crook of his daddy's arm, the once zippy and energetic, Teddy is now rubbing his eyes in an attempt to stay awake. He wants to hear the rest of the story that is being read to him.

"I did have a mother, said the baby bird. I know I did, I have to find her."

I love the way Christian manipulates his voice when he reads a book. He brings the pages to life for our little boy. He's so much better at it than I am. I suppose that's why he is Teddy's chosen bedtime story reader and I am not. I don't mind the rejection. I would rather listen and allow my lips to be busy smiling. When I hear my husband read to our babies my face almost aches with glee. He's more. He is so much more. My more.

"My mudder, Daddy. Mommy is my mudder." My Teddy bear shifts and points to where I am sitting in the chair nursing his baby sister. Phoebe's eyes open for a second at the sound of her brother's voice. She already recognizes when he is near. I love that.

"She is your mother, son." Christian kisses the messy curls atop our son's head, and continues on with the story. Not so long ago my Fifty would never have picked this book up and read it to himself or to our son. Even the dark night air surrounding us from the outside, this dimply lit family room glows with brilliant light. The light is not coming from the lap in the corner, but it is coming from within Christian's heart.

By the time he reaches the last line his audience has already drifted off to sleep. "You are a bird, and you are my mother." He closes the book and sets it down on the floor beside him noiselessly. "And he's asleep."

"Out like a light." I look over to my Ted and then down at my girl. "She is asleep too."

"Should we take them and tuck them into their beds, Mommy?"

"We should, Daddy."

 **GOOD NIGHT KISSES. NIGHT** light. Lullaby music. Crack the door and tip toe down the hall. The nightly ritual and checklist for tucking Teddy into bed has been done. In our room I place Phoebe in her bassinette. She doesn't make a peep. She keeps on sleeping. I know she will wake me when she is hungry in a few hours.

Christian steps in front of me. He's a rumpled mess of deliciousness. Finely pressed seams, sharp corners, and the immaculate grooming of the CEO have fallen away over the course of the evening. All of those perfections have been replaced sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a few damp spots from bath time are still visible on the front of his shirt, and there's a spaghetti sauce stain near his right shoulder. Teddy reached out for a hug in the middle of dinner. I love CEO Christian, hell I love naked sexy dominate Christian, but Daddy Christian is my favorite.

"Good day, Mrs. Grey?"

"Good day, Mr. Grey." I stretch and yawn. I bring my arms down from above my head and walk into Christian's embrace, placing them on his shoulders. "The first of many good days to come."

"Thank you, Ana."

"For what?"

"For this. For our children. For being with them. For being their mother."

"I love them. I love you."

We could talk more about our days. I could tell him about my lunch with Kate and our conversation about preschools. I could gossip about Hannah and the ladies at work. There are so many things we could discuss, but in this moment I choose to do none of those things. This time is ours and I want to spend it on us.

"What do you say we get naked and get under the sheets, Sir?" I raise an eyebrow at my husband and bite my bottom lip. I know I'm driving him wild.

"Are you propositioning me for sex, Mrs. Grey?" He feigns innocence and shock. He's so fuck hot. I want him now.

"Call it a strong invitation." I toss back at him coyly.

"Call it," he puts his hands on my hips and jerks me forward. His voice is as forceful as his actions. I'm so close to him that there is no space between us. I can feel him and he's ready for me. "Accepted." He smacks my bottom hard and I giggle until we fall into a tangled mess on our bed.

There is an abundance of emotion and sensuality between us. Everything that exists in the world that is Christian's and mine can only be described as love. It is one word comprised of only four letters. It is so simple yet so complex. Love. It is what made my Fifty Shades Complete.

THE END.


End file.
